


Dark Side

by wow_okay



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2doc - Freeform, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild S&M, Self-Hatred, Substance Abuse, reference to past sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2020-05-12 18:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19235125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wow_okay/pseuds/wow_okay
Summary: Murdoc struggles to deal with feelings, and confront unsolved issues that he has always evaded in the past. He learns what it is like to not be alone, and then is forced to deal with that aloneness when he brings it on himself.I love feedback, so you're more than welcome to leave comments on what you think I could do to improve, or just to tell me you enjoy it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm struggling to keep Murdoc in character, but I think this chapter stays within the lines pretty well.

Murdoc had a tendency to panic in stressful situations. It wasn't very noticeable. He had mastered the art of covering it up over the years; the art of making it look like he was in control of said situation. But never the art of actually fixing how he felt when those situations arose. 

He supposed his forte was never addressing issues and mending them, but rather blanketing them so they never looked as bad as they actually were. If they showed at all. He knew exactly when these moments would happen, these "inconveniences" if he were ever to really discuss them with anyone outside his own mind. They would pop up at sometimes very random moments: a party, or a pub, or even just sitting in his room. He would make a joke about needing to take a piss or have a smoke and excuse himself to a place where no one would disturb him and he would break down. But most of the time they happened when something reminded him of home. His first home. 

If someone were to ask him about this place he would never refer to it as home. He would say it was just where he squatted with his father and his brother until he was old enough to find a place by himself. And he knew he hated that place more than he was sure anyone could hate anything, but when the panic rose in his chest he was reminded by a voice in the back of his mind of home. _Home. Home._ It would whisper. _He's there. It's him._ It was then that he would crack a joke about how he needed to leave 'for just a second, love. just a second.' and rush away without looking _too_ rushed and take a few minutes to regain his composure. 

He was very aware of himself in this way. Murdoc was _always_ aware of himself, even if he was drunk off his arse. But because of these small meltdowns he seemed to have at the most inconvenient of times, he was always sure to keep an eye out for them. For anything really. A hand reaching for him too fast. Drunken laughter across the room or by his ear. The smell of a specific cigar. He would have to remind himself that it wasn't him. That it would never be him again because the last time he spoke to him he had told him to go fuck himself and that was that. 

But Murdoc had always been one for subtleties, always watching the littlest things he did to make sure everything stayed exactly where it was. Even if it was balancing on the edge. _Especially_ if it was balancing. He always kept his body tense and his voice aloof. It was a trait that he had picked up at a very young age. And it was why he was sure no one would ever know exactly what kind of tower he had made for himself. It was why he was sure no one would ever actually ask him if he was okay. It was why he was sure he would die alone and no one would ever question why. Not even himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Murdoc felt her breath on his ear. He chuckled at the feeling, gripping her waist so she didn't push him off the bar stool. She was very thin, and Murdoc wasn't really into skinny women, but at this age (even if he was a famous rockstar) it was hard to find someone that he actually found attractive. Not that she was ugly. She had very pretty brown hair, it was thick and even though Murdoc was sure she dyed it going off the wrinkles around her eyes, he figured he liked the way it might feel between his fingers. Her boobs were pretty average he supposed. And he didn't particularly like the pink color of her fake nails but he liked the way they felt when she ran them down his chest.

It wasn't a very large bar, sitting on the outskirts of Detroit tucked between a gas station and a very convenient adult store. All cheaply made, all begging for attention. He inhaled her perfume and the same thought popped into his head about her, and he gave a drunk laugh as she kissed his neck. Despite how far away it was from most of Detroit's population, the bar was pretty full. The music was loud and people were laughing and dancing not five feet away from them.

She kissed his jaw and he tilted his head, sighing just quiet enough not to be heard over the music. Everything was fuzzy, but it felt good. Like swaying to a good song. He liked good songs. Murdoc laughed again. He knew she wanted to take this somewhere else, and he knew that he had come here in the hopes that he would find a pretty bird to take home, but after he had sat down and had a few drinks the feeling had faded. It wasn't completely gone, he could still go for _something_ to take the edge off of what the alcohol wouldn't, but he was too tired to actually go home and get at it.

"'Ey love, you know, I think I might've had a bit too much to drink." His words fell together in a jumbled mess, but it was on purpose. He was drunk, but he knew exactly how to play this in his favor. He always did. "I might needto go 'ome." He went to grab her shoulders to push her away. He missed and his hand fell on her knee. It looked like an accident.

She pulled away and examined him in her drunken stupor before giving him a mischievous grin. "Oh don't leave. Don't leave, there was something I wanted frommm you." She rubbed her hand over the back of his, trailing her nails up his arm to his shoulder. He hiccuped. An accident.

"Ah come on. I think it's time I," Hiccup. "Left." This time he smiled at her.

Murdoc got up and pulled out some crumpled twenties from his back pocket. He flipped through them, brows furrowed, and then decided it was close enough and slapped it on the counter. He turned to leave and she grabbed his arm. "I'll make it worth your while," She raised an eyebrow at him. _Ah, now we're getting somewhere._

He smiled back, cheekily. "I dunno love, you're pretty and all. Wouldn't wanna ruin that delllllightful lipstick of yours." He hiccuped again. She just smirked and took his hand, leading him outside.

Everything was still foggy, and his mind still felt warm, but with the music only muffled as the door closed behind them it was a bit easier to think as she pulled him behind the bar. He looked up at the sky. It was clear, but it was bright, the stars drowned out by the city lights. Murdoc wasn't overly fond of stargazing anyways after learning to read them during his Plastic Beach meltdown. He frowned at the back of the brunette's head. _Focus on her._

He assumed she was in her mid-forties. In his inebriated state he couldn't remember her name or if she had even told him her name, but he remembers how she had passively looked at him in the bar until she heard him speak. He'd had her attention then. She must have a thing for Englishmen. Murdoc felt a smirk grow on his face, replacing the frown he'd worn only a second earlier.

He felt everything as she pushed him against the wall by a dumpster and loosened the belt on his jeans. As she kissed him and undid his pants at the same time. She let her fingernails run underneath his shirt, tracing over his stomach and chest. He shivered even though it was warm outside, and finally appreciated those hot pink nails of hers. After prison, everything seemed a bit... more. Every time he was touched it lingered. Every time he saw something that had caught his attention it just seemed a bit more vibrant. Though now, with the city lights behind her and the swimming feeling in his head everything just seemed over-saturated. She brought her hands back down to his crotch, palming him through the fabric of his underwear and dropped to her knees, pulling his erection out of the thin fabric. Everything always seemed to move faster when he was drunk. He felt her mouth on him, felt the way her tongue stroked the underside of his dick. But he never actually savored the way it felt. Just that it was there and that it felt, well, good. That was the only issue he'd had with being out of prison. When he was drunk everything seemed like it was teetering back and forth, balancing between feeling everything but also feeling everything move so _fast._ It was like being car sick and driving down the track at NASCAR. Not to mention the fact that Murdoc was drunk practically eighty percent of the time, though that number had gone down too since he'd been out.

She swallowed him, taking him all the way down her throat until he was pressed firmly at the back, her nose in his curlies. He inhaled very deeply and let his head rest against the wall as she started to move. He vaguely wondered if she had a gag reflex because who could actually do that without gagging? Maybe fifteen percent of the human population? Then she turned her head and sucked hard and the thought was thrust from his mind. He groaned. She was experienced, he could give her that much, and he grabbed the back of her head, her hair wrapping around his fingers. _Her hair_ does _feel nice._ He thought to himself.

The rest was a blur. Her hands on his thighs, his hands in her hair. There were a few moments where, despite himself and his situation, his thoughts drifted to other things. To darker things. But her tongue would pull him back and in the end he came with a loud groan, his legs buckling beneath him.

There was a pause after everything when she finally pulled away and looked up at him waiting to hear praise, where he just looked at the city beyond them and his mind had a million things running through it and was still somehow blank. Everything slowed down a bit; it was like focusing on the rattle of an engine in a car after a fight when you've both run out of things to say. He, for a moment, wished she was someone else. He wasn't sure who, but he wanted to be close to someone. Just for a second. He wanted to know what it was like to have sex with someone he loved and who loved him _back._ He didn't want some meaningless, drunk, blowjob behind a shitty bar on the outside of town. But he'd never had sex with someone when he wasn't drunk. Or with someone he loved. Or with someone who loved him back.

He pretended the pause was him reeling after a 'particularly fantastic blowjob' which is what he told her. And it was. He didn't even have to lie about that part, just the part where life was shit, and feelings were shit, and he wished he were somewhere else with _someone_ else. Though he figured she already knew exactly what a shitty hand life usually dealt if she was almost fifty, hanging around in bars hoping to suck someone off.

They parted ways and he walked lazily (drunkenly) over to the other side of the gas station and pulled out a pack of smokes. He leaned against the building and lit a cigarette, shoving the lighter back in his pocket. Murdoc watched the grass across the street move with the wind, occasionally taking a pull from his fag until it burnt out, and he threw the butt into the street. He wasn't as drunk as he would've liked, but it was enough that when he tried to think about what she looked like, he couldn't remember. He only ever did anything sexual if their faces were blurry, it didn't matter who it was. Murdoc never had sex sober, and he had good reasons. Number one being: he was a panicky mess. In fact, it was why he was drunk so much of the time. It'd been that way ever since he was nine years old. But he also refused to do it because he didn't want to remember who they were. They were sex partners and nothing more. Murdoc figured they would never be more. He didn't deserve more. He stood, back to the gas station before pulling out another cigarette and doing the same with that one.

 _It's very Melancholy._ A voice said. 

Murdoc frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. That voice had made a habit out of popping into his head, reminding him of things he actively chose not to think about. Most of the time he would ignore it, but if he was drunk enough he would curse at it. His band mates had all told him that they preferred not to be around him when he was so drunk because his yelling made them uneasy. He scoffed at the idea that they could get away from him and he couldn't.

 _You're sad._

Murdoc angrily turned and walked towards his car, biting back the urge to tell the voice to fuck off. He was in the parking lot of the bar again by the time he realized Russel had told him to take a cab when he recognized he was going drinking.

"You can't take the car anymore, we can't risk you wrecking it. If you need a ride, call a cab or call one of us." They both knew that Murdoc would probably rather chance dying than call one of his band members. He wondered if maybe Russel actually cared about his wellbeing enough to keep the car from him for his sake, but immediately pushed the thought away. Russel had never cared about him, and he'd made that much clear. If he was sure of nothing else, Murdoc was sure Russel did not care about him. Just Noodle. Just 2D. Just the car.

He hunched his shoulders and made for the road. A cab had brought him out here, but he was still too far on the outskirts of town to see any driving by. He knew that he wasn't drunk enough to stay that way if he walked even a quarter of the distance home, but he didn't want to go back inside the bar and he didn't want to call for one. He just didn't want to go home. So he walked until he hit the ghetto part of town. Or at least one part. Trash littered the front yards of broken down homes with faded toys in the front. Someone was standing on the porch of a home smoking a cigarette, seeming uninterested in him. He wondered how these people ended up here. Were they all born here? Raised here? Or did they just hit the bottom and could never get back up? Maybe they couldn't find it in themselves. He wondered if there were any other similarities between him and these poor sods. Looking around he realized how much like Stoke-on-Trent this place was, nestled in between a city like Detroit and the road to nowhere. Too many similarities. He walked faster. 

When he finally found a cab his phone read 2:41 am, and he slumped into the seat, mumbling the address to the cabbie and staring out the window tiredly. He thought about the last time he'd seen Stoke. It had been over thirty years now and he pressed his fingers into his eyes, thinking, _Not long enough._ The cab eventually pulled up to the house, which, to be honest, wasn't in a great part of town either. He didn't bother saying thank you, he just paid the man and made his way up the steps and into the house, shutting the door as quietly as he could behind him.

Murdoc thought back to before prison. How he would've slammed the door shut and stumbled up the steps to his room, yelling something about being home. He closed his eyes at the thought and leaned back against the door. He thought about promising to change. About how he told them he would try harder. He remembered Noodle's request to not drink as much, which hadn't been that hard since he'd been forced to sober up in prison anyway. He'd been talking back less to Russel, knowing how much it angered the man when he did so with his usual snippy remarks. And when Murdoc thought about it, Russel did seem to tolerate Murdoc more now that he had kept most of his sharp commentary to himself. And no one had to say it, but he had chosen to stop hitting 2D. He had calmed down a bit before prison, keeping his hands mostly to himself, though not his reflections on just how stupid he thought 2D really was. But afterward, when 2D had gained his confidence back (and some might even say his arrogance), and had chewed Murdoc out thoroughly, Murdoc had admitted that he didn't plan to make a habit of abusing 2D in any way, or making him the constant butt of his jokes anymore.

Murdoc slowly made his way upstairs and to his room, letting the door shut behind him with a click. He pulled his jacket off and tossed it somewhere on the floor before yanking his boots off and crawling into bed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, that voice was telling him to at least change underwear. That he didn't want that woman's mouth on his dick any longer and that he needed a shower. But he ignored it, settling into the pillows and falling into a restless sleep.

\------

_He felt the rocking of a boat and the salty taste of the air around him. When he looked to his left 2D was sitting there with his back to him, looking out over the water, eerily still. It wasn't right; when they were on the way to Plastic Beach they were in a submarine, not a boat. He looked up to read the stars but they twisted in the sky, making strange shapes. They wouldn't stay still enough for him read and he watched, frustrated, as they moved like fireflies and felt the same feeling he felt every night of his life. For as long as he could remember. You're homesick. Some voice in his dream said._

_He was homesick._

_He was always homesick and he never knew what for._

_He would live with it._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a bit long, I might have gotten a little carried away, but none of them are consistent in length anyways.

His headache wasn't so bad this morning when he woke up. Though if he asked anyone else in the house, they would tell him it was hardly morning. He grabbed his phone off his bedside table and turned it on, wincing at how bright it was. It read 12:13 pm. Murdoc sighed and laid back down. He wondered if maybe the group had left or if they were eating here since they usually ate breakfast here, but not lunch.

He laid there, letting himself wake up for a bit like he usually did and thought about how often he did this. Woke up late, avoided everyone all day and left late when everyone had gone to bed, coming back well into the morning. He'd done that for a long time. Even when it was just him and 2D he'd made a habit of avoiding him and then leaving him to drink. At the time he just didn't want 2D to ask where he was going. Or where he got those bruises. Or why he was always gone. The man had a tendency to ask a lot of questions. But now when he thought back on it, it just seemed mean. At least from 2D's point of view he was sure. His only mate avoiding him and sneaking out without him. There were times when they would sit together and get drunk on the couch, laughing about something stupid. And when they had all of their official band members, sans Paula Cracker, he could admit he hung around a bit more. But then he thought about Plastic Beach and how he'd locked 2D in his room for weeks. How he'd get drunk just a floor above him instead of leaving the way he used to when he had a place to go. The drugging, the beating...

He inhaled very deeply and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.

_You're a shitty person._

"Yeah, thanks." He muttered at the voice. He let his hands fall and let his eyes adjust before throwing the covers back and getting out of bed before the voice decided it had anything else to say.

Murdoc stumbled to the shower, wishing he had taken some pain pills for his headache which had gotten worse when he stood up, and turned the water on until it was steaming. He stripped and got in, but when the water hit his back he hissed. It was too hot.

He left it.

\------

After he had properly washed all of the woman from last night's exploits off his body, he got out and grabbed new clothes from his room, sighing as he made his way downstairs. Spiked coffee sounded good. He wasn't sure if he was hoping they would be downstairs or not, but they were either way and he tried to keep his face placid as he walked into the kitchen.

Noodle smiled through the rice in her mouth and mumbled a cheery "Goobmorming."

Murdoc laughed a little at her face and made his way to the coffee machine surprised to find it still had coffee in it. He suspected Noodle; she was always thinking about him. His chest twisted as he poured his coffee but when he reached for the liquor cabinet and heard someone clear their throat he knew he wouldn't get his spiked coffee. He turned around and Noodle was giving him a look. Just coffee then. He sighed and made his way to the little circular table sitting between 2D and Russel who were talking animatedly about something.

Murdoc sat back in his chair, and took a sip when Noodle smiled at him again. "So, you are up kind of early. Do you have any plans today?" She took another bite of her takeout and Murdoc eyed her chopsticks. He could never figure out how to use them and it irritated him to no end.

He gave her a cheeky smile. "No, love. It's just me today." He said it like he didn't always say it. Like he didn't always sit around the house or go drinking or write music. He took another sip of coffee and both Noodle and Murdoc watched 2D and Russel laugh about some video 2D had shown him last night.

Murdoc wasn't sure what it was. Normally if he had come downstairs and they were still here, he would have just as lively a conversation with them. Jumping in and making sure to add his two cents, but today everything just seemed so bland. He sipped his coffee. He let his eyes unfocus and his mind drift again. Though not before bitterly wishing his coffee had something hard in it so that his mind _wouldn't_ do this. It was a few minutes of thinking about nothing and sipping coffee and listening to the other three talking in the background before he decided he didn't want to sip coffee anymore. He stood up and dumped it out in the sink watching it go down the drain. He felt like the coffee.

_You're just one big shit-show after another._

He held back a sigh. The voice was definitely a lot more hostile when he was sober. Or at least mostly sober. He wasn't sure why but he assumed it was because he was more aware of himself and what a shitty person he really was. He rubbed his face tiredly. _Maybe I should just go back to bed._ He thought.

_Sure, sleep your life away. That'll get you places._

That voice reminded him a lot of his old man. Always with something negative to say. Actually, when he thought about it, that voice didn't show up until after he had moved out of his old man's place. He'd always had negative thoughts but it seemed when he moved out that the negative voice took on a new shape. And when he thought something it just happened to sound like his father.

He must've been standing there hunched over the sink for a little too long because Russel asked him, "Murdoc, you alright man?"

He stood up straight and turned around. "Yeah, of course Russ." He laughed loudly. "Just thinking about that _lovely_ little bird from last night, you know. Really rrrrrrocked my world if you know what I mean." He laughed again, gravelly, and Russel rolled his eyes. Noodle laughed at him and 2D smiled. Murdoc was sure his face would fall again if he didn't leave soon and he was about to make his way back upstairs to just take a nap when he was reminded of his promise to be better. "What plans do my sweet band members have today, huh? Anything thrrrrilling?" He smiled again, impishly, leaning back against the sink.

Russel put his chin in his hand and eyed the other two. 2D turned and piped up with a smile. "Actually we were finking about going shopping. Going to see some of the shops downtown. We could all use some new clothes, and we-"

"Yeah you could use some new clothes, huh Muds?" Noodle said laughing.

Murdoc flapped his hand at her. "These clothes will never go out of style, you hear?" Murdoc pinched his ratty black t-shirt. "Vintage." He said with a rascally smile.

"Antique." Noodle mumbled with a smile, taking a drink.

Murdoc opened his mouth to retaliate.

"Do you want to come, Murdoc?" 2D said, as if he hadn't been cut off. They all looked at him expectantly. Murdoc's eye twitched. He knew he should say yes, he actually wanted to say yes. Spending time mending his relationships with them sounded easy if he spent a day shopping with them. But he knew that as he grew older, while it was easy to keep up the facade that he loved spending all his time partying to his fans, it became harder in his personal life. And while he had always loved spending time alone, it seemed like more of a necessity now. He was just so damn tired all the time. And he knew that it was more than just a physical thing. His mind spent so much time picking itself apart now that if he was out in public he was afraid maybe it would say something that would make him panic and he couldn't risk some kind of break down in front of a bunch of people.

 _Plastic Beach._ The voice said, reminding him that it had already happened.

He shook his head and flapped his hand again, trying to look nonchalant. Like he hadn't spent so many years before being jealous of how much they all very obviously preferred each other over him. And now here he was being offered to spend a day with them and he was turning them down.

_What the fuck is wrong with you? Why can't you just be normal?_

"No, you guys go ahead, don't let me hold you back." He smiled again. It was supposed to sound playful, like they shouldn't worry about leaving him here. But instead it sounded bitter, like he was jabbing at them for all the years they had left him out. What the hell was he supposed to do while they were gone anyways, they all knew he didn't have plans. The room got heavy and he laughed, trying to play it off some more. "I'm so old I could probably hardly keep up with you lot anyways." He hated playing the old man card. He knew he was getting old and they knew he was getting old, but reminding not only himself but also them just made him sour.

There was a moment where everyone tried to figure out what to say when Murdoc just mumbled a 'have fun' and made his way quickly upstairs. He felt their eyes on him, giving him unsure looks and he wanted to yell at them to keep their pitiful puppy eyes to themselves. He sat down on his bed, defeated, and let his forearms rest against his knees as he stared at the wall. _Seriously, Murdoc, what the fuck._

He rubbed his face. He had always been good at making everything seem fine; it was probably what he was best at. So why the hell had he been so _bad_ at it recently? He figured it must have started around Plastic Beach, when he'd actually had a big breakdown: running from the Black Cloud, kidnapping and drugging 2D, making that stupid cyborg... After all of that had calmed down he went back to pretending like everything was fine. Like he hadn't had a mental relapse so bad it was enough to intern him offshore so long even his band mates would forget his name. But it wasn't the same. And after prison, telling them he would do better, it had gotten even harder.

 _I need a smoke._ He thought. He pushed himself off the bed and dug around through the jacket he had thrown carelessly on the floor last night, pulling out his carton of cigs and his lighter. He lit the cigarette and tossed the box and the lighter on his bed, opening his window and leaning outside. It was cloudy but occasionally the sun would show its face and he wondered what they were saying about him downstairs.

He smoked for a few minutes, lost in thought when he heard a knock on his door. He let his head hang against his chest. _What do they want? Why can't they just leave? I don't want to do this right now._

 _You don't want to do this_ ever. He silently told the voice to shut up and stubbed his cigarette against the window sill. He pulled open the door.

"I thought you'd be gone by now, Noodle. Wh-" But it wasn't Noodle, it was 2D. He was standing there, flexing his fingers nervously, looking like he shouldn't be here. _He_ shouldn't _be here._ Murdoc thought uneasily. "What are you doing here, D?" He asked, leaving the door open and walking back to sit on his bed. 2D nervously stepped into his room, and shut the door behind him. Murdoc eyed the door anxiously as it shut, memories trying to force their way out of the closet he had made for them in the back of his mind.

"I- uh. Well we weren't sure..." He fumbled to find the right words, looking around Murdoc's room and at the same time refusing to look at Murdoc himself. "Are you sure you don't want to come? We were all looking forward to, well having you- well I mean in you coming." He glanced at Murdoc who was keeping his face as neutral as possible. 2D had always struggled with words, and while he had changed during Murdoc's prison spell, he was still the same under all that confidence. Murdoc had always made sure to tell him how stupid he sounded in the past when he tried to talk, but secretly it was one of the things he liked about Stu.

"I'm not coming 2D, so just drop it." Murdoc wanted another cigarette. He grabbed for the box and pulled one out, offering one to 2D who just shook his head. Murdoc cupped his hand around the end of the fag, hiding the flame from the breeze that had made its way into his room after he opened the window, and lit it. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes exhaling the smoke through his nose. When 2D didn't say anything Murdoc opened his eyes. 2D was staring at him curiously.

"Why won't you come?" He asked. Murdoc studied him, the way his hands hung at his sides, fingers twitching. He wasn't sure why the other man was so restless, he was in Murdoc's room almost every night. He had been for almost as long as they had known each other. When Murdoc had a particularly bad nightmare, it was 2D who would come in and comfort him until he either calmed down or woke up. Most of the time Murdoc would wake up, jerking, and he would eye 2D who was sitting nervously next to him on the bed. Murdoc would then tell him that he could leave, and 2D would shut the door quietly behind him as he went back to his room.

"Because." He muttered quietly, taking another drag from the cigarette.

2D scowled. "That's not an answer Muds, come on."

Murdoc blew the smoke from his mouth and thought again about how often 2D was in his room. It had started not long after they had started rooming together. Murdoc had a nightmare and was surprised when he woke up to find 2D sitting next to him, pulling his hand back like it had been in his hair. Murdoc had shouted at him, asking him what the bloody hell he thought he was doing. 2D had desperately tried to explain that his migraines were usually the worst at night and that after weeks of listening to Murdoc shout in his sleep he might as well do something to help. Murdoc had screamed at him to leave. A few weeks passed before 2D had come back to comfort Murdoc, who again had yelled at him to get out. But 2D kept coming back and after a while Murdoc found it pointless to tell him not to do it when he would just do it anyways. He settled with just bitterly telling him to leave after he woke up. There was the occasional night though, where Murdoc would have a dream so bad that when he woke up the only thing he could do was stare at the ceiling and let 2D run his fingers through his hair as his tears dried against his cheeks and he fell back asleep.

"What do you want me to tell you, that I don't want to go shopping with you lot?"

"No, I want you to tell me _why._ "

Murdoc growled. "Well, maybe it's none of your bloody business _why._ "

2D sighed and made his way to Murdoc's bed, plopping down next to him and they both bounced a little as the bed settled. 2D ran a hand through his hair and said quietly, "I'll have that smoke now." Murdoc reached for the carton and pulled one out, handing it to 2D and then lighting it for him. They sat in silence, smoking until Murdoc's cigarette was spent and he licked his fingers pinching the end of it and tossing it into an ashtray on his bedside table.

He turned to look at 2D who was watching him silently. He exhaled and crossed one arm over his chest, holding the other with his cigarette in the air. "I know..." Murdoc watched the emotions flash across his face, trying to figure out what to say. "I know that you're not really a shopping person, unless you're by yourself going through those awful antique stores-"

"Oi, watch it." Murdoc threatened. They both knew it was empty.

"But don't you fink maybe- maybe we could use the time to... er, well." 2D nervously took a drag from his cigarette.

"Spit it out, 2D." Murdoc said.

"Don't you fink maybe it would be good for you to spend a day wif us? I mean, I know that since prison-" Murdoc didn't have a chance to stop himself from wincing at the mention of it. He could think about it usually without problem but when someone else brought it up it made him nauseous. 2D noticed and tried to backpedal. "I- I just fink that maybe-"

"Look," Murdoc started. He was getting angry. He could try to be better, but that didn't mean that he could just erase fifty plus years of habits. They all knew he had a short temper. "If you want me to come, that's fine. If you _don't_ want me to come, fine. But I'm not coming either way. And I don't need to explain why. So stop bloody askin' me!" He stood up and made his way to the opposite wall, but he wasn't sure what he planned to do so he just turned around and started pacing. He could feel 2D's eyes on him but he ignored it.

"I _do_ want you to come, Muds." 2D said quietly. Murdoc wasn't sure what to say to that. _He_ didn't even want to spend any extra time with himself. He had to admit that if he could, even he would abandon himself. He squeezed his eyes shut at that thought. He couldn't be thinking shit like that with 2D ten feet away from him.

"2D-" He started angrily.

"Murdoc just- why don't you want to come wif us? Is it Russel? Noodle?" He paused, "Is it me?" Murdoc rolled his eyes. 2D tended to ask for reassurance a lot. Murdoc understood that it was probably his doing, years of abuse don't just leave you spotless, but it was still annoying.

_You make everything about yourself what's wrong with him making sure he's not in the wrong? It's more than you ever do._

Murdoc angrily swiped at the voice with his hand even though he knew it wouldn't do anything and then ran that hand through his hair. He turned to face 2D who was looking at him very wearily, his hand with the cigarette hanging limply at his side. "It's not you." Murdoc said quietly, trying to keep his anger under control. Why couldn't they have just left? They could have just come back home later and they could all pretend nothing had happened. But Murdoc and his stupid feelings and his stupid head had to get in the way of it. And now so did 2D and his stupid tendency to check on Murdoc all the time. For a second Murdoc thinks he shouldn't have ever let 2D come into his room when he had nightmares. But then he asks himself where would he be if he hadn't let him do that?

_Dead._

Murdoc clenched his hands. "Just go Stu. Go fucking shopping and just leave me here." As he said the last part he ran a tired hand over his face and turned towards the window. "Please." He added for good measure. There was silence for a second as 2D watched his back and then he bitterly stubbed his cigarette into the ashtray and stalked out of Murdoc's room, not slamming the door but coming pretty close.

Murdoc listened as a few minutes later the car started and drove off down the road. He slammed his window shut and pulled the curtains back over it, stomping back to his bed and falling into the pillows. Why did everything have to be so difficult? Why couldn't he just go with them? He needed new clothes anyways, Noodle was right, but he had never been one for shopping. He grew up with something like four shirts anyways and just because he was famous didn't mean he couldn't still do that.

_You don't have to though, that's the point you fucking idiot._

He pulled a pillow over his head. He wasn't going to do anything anyways. He had the rest of the day to do this: absolutely nothing, so why couldn't he just go with them. He was so tired. So tired all the time because he couldn't just be. He had never really experienced happiness and now here he was at fifty-two, with a chance to be happy, and his past and who he had become because of it prevented him from finally letting everything go and just enjoying being with the only people he ever considered family.

In a fit of anger he threw the pillow at the wall. The others followed. And then he was up and he was fuming and then with a shout his hand was in the wall.

He sighed and let his forehead fall above the hole he had made in the drywall.

_What the fuck is wrong with you?_

"Sod off!" Murdoc shouted. He stayed there a moment, letting his breathing steady and finally pulled his fist out of the wall. He looked at it for a second, and decisively turned and yanked the door open. He was going to have that drink.

\------

He drank well into the evening. Definitely getting more drunk than last night, in which he was pleasantly surprised to find he didn't have any nightmares but he figured it was just because he was so exhausted. Tonight though, he counted on it, and he knew that if he was drunk enough the nightmares weren't usually as bad. So he drank almost everything in the liquor cabinet. He started slow, and then when he had a buzz he slammed on the gas pedal and everything blurred. 

When the rest of the band returned it was close to eleven. Murdoc wasn't sure _exactly_ what time it was because when he tried to look at his phone it just got really fuzzy and it made him nauseous, so he laid in his bed with a bottle of vodka clutched in his hand and stared at the ceiling listening to them laugh downstairs. He tried to mimic Russel's deep laugh but it just got caught in his throat and he ended up laughing chaotically at himself.

He heard footsteps walking up the stairs accompanied with 2D's and Noodle's voices.

"Should we talk to him?" 2D asked her. There was silence for a second and then,

"No. He's probably not even here." The footsteps receded to the other rooms and Murdoc grumbled. They had every right to assume he wouldn't be there. But he was and he found himself unreasonably angry at their assessment. They didn't even know him. Didn't know him at all. _I'm here._ He thought indignantly.

_They don't know you because you never give them a chance._

Murdoc took a swig of the vodka, letting it burn his throat and catch his chest on fire. Everything was dark very quickly.

\------

_Murdoc was in the living room of the Spirit House. Everything was the way it looked now, only the walls were dark and grimy, and they looked the way they did before they made the house livable. He looked around at the sound of laughter and saw 2D sitting at the table talking to someone sitting opposite him. He made his way over and realized it was his father. He started, uneasy at the sight of them together. 2D was laughing but his father looked unamused. In fact he looked like he hadn't said anything at all._

_He felt himself ask 2D what was so funny. Both of them looked up at him like they just realized he was there and 2D laughed harder. Murdoc saw his father scowl at him, like he was angry at him for just being there. His father shouted something at him and 2D's laughter grew. Murdoc's heart beat faster. Suddenly there was more laughing. He looked up and Noodle was giggling from the counter, looking right at him. Next to her was Hannibal, Murdoc's brother. Murdoc jerked back at the sight of him pointing at him and cackling as loud as he could._

_His father yelled for silence but when he looked at him, he was yelling at Murdoc, face contorted. Murdoc glanced to his right and Russel was mocking him too, hand on his stomach like he had been laughing so long it hurt. Murdoc felt his heart beat so fast he thought it might come out of his chest. They were laughing at him. He clutched at his rib cage, trying to quell the pain there but the louder the laughing grew, the harder it beat on the inside of his chest. Like his father banging on his door late at night when he came home drunk. He tried to take a deep breath._

_They were howling at him so loud he wanted to cover his ears but the pressure in his breast was too much. Over the laughter there was one voice screaming at him to shut up. He watched his father stand._

_"Shut up! Shut your goddamn mouth! Stop!" He slammed his hand on the table and Murdoc started hyperventilating. It's not me! He wanted to shout but the words wouldn't come. He desperately wanted them all the stop laughing, begging them silently to be quiet as his father advanced on him._

_"Shut up! Or I'll make you shut up!" The laughing grew. It was unbearable and Murdoc couldn't catch his breath. His father towered over him and Murdoc shrank. Can't breathe! Can't breathe!_

_"I'll make you!" His father screamed. The laughing continued and his father's hand came down._

\------

Murdoc sat up in bed. He heard the tail end of a scream escape his mouth and he couldn't catch his breath. His heart was beating on the inside of his chest so bad it was hurting him and his feet felt numb. Like he had run a marathon. His head was pounding too. He clutched at his chest and tried to calm down when he felt a hand on his back. He jumped with a shout and punched at it.

 _It's him!_ He thought fearfully.

2D grunted, pulling away and holding his wrist where Murdoc had hit him. Murdoc glanced at him and tried desperately to catch his breath but he couldn't. He yanked the covers back and scooted to the end of the bed. He needed air. He needed to stand up and get some air. He went to stand but in his panic he hadn't pulled the covers completely off his feet and he fell off the bed instead with a heavy thump. 2D was at his side in a second. He was saying things to him to calm him down, reaching out to touch him but Murdoc pulled back, pushing himself against the wall and grabbing his chest. He curled in on himself and tried to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. Eventually 2D's voice came through.

"Muds. Muds it's okay." He focused on the voice. He told himself it was okay and that he was safe. A hand very gently touched his shoulder and when Murdoc didn't jerk the hand ran over his shoulders until it was wrapped around him in an embrace. Desperate for affection, Murdoc let 2D hold him against his chest, pulling him over so that his head rested on Stu's shoulder. Murdoc felt his breathing steady and the panic subside as his mind caught up to reality. 2D continued to whisper soothing things into Murdoc's hair.

This happened sometimes too. Sometimes Murdoc's nightmares would be bad enough that he would panic when he woke up and he didn't know where he was and his mind fought to get him out of whatever dangerous situation he was in. Stu was always there for these dreams, and most of the time ended up getting punched, but he stuck around and made sure Murdoc was calm before he left.

He let his mind wander to something more recent. Neither of them had talked about it, but when Murdoc had come back from prison, there was one night in particular where 2D had woken him up from one of his nightmares looking very shaken. Murdoc had told him he could leave but 2D paused, shuffling back and forth on his feet. Murdoc watched him, unsure of what to do when he realized that 2D must have had a nightmare too. 2D was much more accustomed to physical attention than Murdoc, who figured that's what he needed. Half asleep and still slightly shaken from his nightmare, Murdoc scooted over in his bed and lifted the covers for the other man. 2D didn't even hesitate he crawled in next to him and pressed his body against Murdoc's.

"Muds." 2D said quietly. "Are you okay?"

To say he was embarrassed would be an understatement. He hated having panic attacks in front of 2D even if they were rare. He'd never had one in front of anyone else but he couldn't imagine what that would be like. He realized he had slumped into the singers body and that while he was still tense, coiled up against him, he was leaning his full weight on him.

Murdoc slowly peeled himself away from 2D who seemed reluctant to let him go. Murdoc went to stand up but 2D grabbed him gently. "Muds." He used his other hand to pull his chin towards his face. Murdoc jerked away. The last thing he wanted was to look the other man in the eyes.

2D let his hands fall away and Murdoc stood on unsteady feet, making his way to his beside table and the almost empty carton of cigarettes. With shaky hands he lit one and sat on his bed heavily. He sat for a few seconds, smoking, when the bed sunk next to him as 2D sat and their shoulders touched. Murdoc let them.

They had always been close in some ways. Or at least closer than Murdoc had ever let anyone get in his life. But after prison, _after the album,_ when he had told everyone he would be a better person things had definitely been different between Murdoc and 2D. They both knew it even if they never discussed it, and secretly it was something Murdoc had craved. He was sure 2D felt the same. They sat in silence while Murdoc smoked and a fog slowly filled the room. Murdoc's head was pounding and he knew he'd be sick in a few hours, his insobriety wearing off. The headache was just one sign.

2D laid his head on Murdoc's shoulder, and Murdoc had the urge to shake him off but when he glanced at him he noticed how tired he was too, his eyes drooping. They sat that way until Murdoc's smoke dissipated and his back started to ache. He threw the butt into the ashtray and turned to look at 2D. His eyes were closed now and his breathing was starting to slow. Murdoc looked away for a second considering letting him sleep in his bed for the rest of the night. He wanted the attention too after all, and was still shaken from his dream.

_Just let him stay._

"Oi." Murdoc said quietly, though his voice came out shaky. "Come on, get under the covers my back is starting to ache." He shook his shoulder to get his attention and 2D sleepily obeyed, crawling over the bed and laying down pulling the comforter over himself, eyes already closed. Despite himself Murdoc chuckled lightly and followed suit, laying down with the blanket drawn over his shoulders. He wasn't much of a cuddler, but 2D was. And as he started to drift back into sleep he felt the taller man scoot closer to Murdoc, pressing his forehead into the space between his shoulder blades. Murdoc wasn't awake much longer after that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's fucking long I'm so sorry. It took forever too, I have depression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fairly descriptive vomiting scene, i'm sorry? thoughts of suicide/ mentions of past suicide attempts. general unhappiness, this chapter is so depressing.

He didn't really have a chance to wake up. One moment he was asleep and the next he was going to be sick so he flung the covers back and booked it to the bathroom. 

He had barely made it, expelling the contents of his stomach unwillingly as he squeezed his hands into fists. His stomach clenched painfully as he vomited and everything burned, including his nose, because there was no difference between the acidic feel of alcohol and his own bile. He gripped the lid above him desperately and wished it was over with. 

When he finally stopped throwing up, he flushed the toilet and let his forehead fall against the seat despite the disgust gnawing in the back of his mind. He sat there for a minute, trying to remember what happened last night that could have had him so shit-faced. Nothing came to mind at first he was so exhausted, but then he remembered how he had panicked when they asked him if he wanted to go out and his small fight with 2D after. 

2D, who was still laying in his bed asleep. Murdoc had barely registered his body next to him before he had run to the bathroom, but now he remembers the nightmare he had and how 2D had held him. How he whispered things into his hair. Murdoc shivered. 

Just as he started to wonder what time it was, a door at the end of the hall closed and he heard heavy footsteps. His body tensed out of habit and Russel appeared in the doorway. He stopped, startled at the sight of the older man slouched over the toilet, and Murdoc turned his head enough that one eye was peeking out over his arm. He was a bit surprised Russel had seen him considering he hadn't turned on the light. And the hallway was dark as well. He laughed a little and leaned into the bathroom, one hand on the door frame. 

"You alright there, Muds? You're lookin' a little green, man." Murdoc turned his head back the other way and gave a rude gesture with his finger. Russel chuckled again and said, "I'm headin' downstairs to make some coffee if you decide you want some." 

Murdoc listened as he made his way down the stairs. He wanted to go back to bed, and he knew coffee would keep him from doing that. But he also knew he wouldn't go back to sleep after emptying everything in his stomach so once he felt like he wasn't going to throw up again he stood and grabbed some antacids from the cabinet and watched himself chew them tiredly in the mirror. 

_You look absolutely abhorrent, mate._

Murdoc just chewed, studying the bags under his eyes and the overall disgruntled look on his face. He _did_ look like shit. Still in his clothes from yesterday, his shirt was wrinkled and smelled like sweat and when he leaned in to get a better look he saw the stubble around his mouth. He scratched his chin, listening to the sound it made under his untrimmed fingernails, and turned the faucet on, bending over to take a drink. It felt good to wash some of the burning in his throat away, and he cupped his hands under the water to wash his face as well. 

He did decide to go downstairs but he wanted to change first so he made his way back to his room and shut the door behind him. His room was filthy: he picked his way over clothes and empty bottles, suspicious looking baggies and cigarette butts to reach his dresser. His back ached from leaning over the toilet but he ignored it as he peeled his shirt off and threw it on the floor by his bed. Something always hurt nowadays anyways. His eyes followed it halfheartedly before noticing the lump under his sheets. For a split second he thought maybe he had brought someone home last night and couldn't remember because he had been so drunk, before recalling his nightmare and 2D again. 

He stared at him for a moment, his pale arm flung out next to him where Murdoc had been sleeping. He studied his hand because it was so fucking huge, and wondered how he had gotten so much attention over the years for being so attractive with a body so lanky. But then he thought about how even _he_ knew he was an attractive guy and yeah okay, the hands actually kind of tied into that attraction. Something about them had always captured Murdoc's attention though he wasn't sure why. 

He quickly turned away, forcing those thoughts out of his head, and rifled through his dresser for a clean shirt. He found a plain blue long sleeve, and pulled it on, once again ignoring the pang in his lower back. He turned to leave and his eyes found Stu again, sleeping with his mouth barely open and drooling on Murdoc's pillow. He frowned but made no move to leave or to wake him up. He looked handsome. Murdoc swallowed and clenched his hands. 

He refused to think things like this most of the time. He had had his suspicions about 2D's feelings for him after listening to the album, and they had only grown when he had seen the picture of himself at their first concert back together, but still he couldn't really let himself fall victim to that kind of... expectation. It wasn't fair to think things like that about him after everything Murdoc had put him through and it wasn't fair to speculate that 2D might feel something for the same reasons. Even when things like last night happened, he couldn't allow himself to be that selfish anymore. 

It was true that over the years he had constantly talked up Stuart's looks to promote the band. And it was true that part of the abuse that he had delivered was because he was jealous of his charm. After all Murdoc could have been the front man if his nose wasn't so busted up. But he occasionally put his own resentment aside and found himself _almost_ doing something like _maybe_ pining for him. And when he came down from that weird place he sometimes found himself in, he took it out on poor, unsuspecting, 2D. 

He gave him another quick once-over before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him with a little more force than necessary, and hoped 2D would wake and get the message. Even though he couldn't bring himself to rouse him and tell him to leave on his own. 

What was wrong with him?

\------

He made his way downstairs, footsteps heavy in his weary state, and shuffled into the kitchen. Russel looked up as he came in and smirked. 

"Hey. How you feelin'?" He asked over his newspaper. Murdoc glanced at him and figured he looked pretty ugly with his mouth hanging open and his shoulders slumped, arms hanging limply at his sides. It was something he was used to though, looking ugly, and he just sat down in the chair across from him with a heavy sigh. He wasn't _feeling_ too hot either. Russel chuckled at him and turned his attention back to his newspaper. Murdoc glared at him, wishing he could see the look he was giving him through the paper. Somehow Russel always managed to make a joke out of Murdoc and Murdoc wondered what he got out of it. Though, if he was thinking fairly, Murdoc had done less for shits and giggles and probably deserved it. He guessed that maybe he thought so little of Russel because Russel thought so little of him, and had always treated him the way he should be treated. 

Murdoc eyed the coffee pot, which was filling up, with disdain. The idea of drinking the thick liquid and letting it sit in his stomach brought his nausea back full force so he closed his eyes and breathed in as deeply as he could through his nose. 

"Hey, you seriously don't look good, Murdoc." Russel said behind his closed eyes. 

"Bugger off, Russ, you don't have to keep reminding me." Murdoc quipped, curling his top lip over his teeth and opening his eyes. Russel was staring at him, paper set down on the table, and he sighed. Murdoc watched him mull something over in his head, jutting his chin out in thought but otherwise still. After a second his haunted eyes drifted back to Murdoc and he drummed his fingers on the table once. 

"I feel like there might be something I should talk to you about." He said. Immediately Murdoc's heart clenched. He groaned and leaned forward, resting his head in his hand and stared at the big man in front of him with faux indifference. 

"Can this wait?" He asked, muffled against his palm. 

"For what?" Russel questioned. "For when you think I'll forget about it?"

Murdoc shrugged and sneered at him. "Preferably, yeah mate."

"Murdoc..." Russel shook his head and looked away. Murdoc noticed that he seemed like this had been on his mind for a while by the way he was chewing his lip, and couldn't help looking at him curiously. "All I was going to say was that, I noticed that you've been trying." Once again his pale eyes found Murdoc's and he froze. "I _have noticed_ , Murdoc. And I appreciate it. The effort I mean. I know it's not easy, and I know it'll never be easy but," He shrugged. "I- I mean, I'm glad, man. And I know Noodle and 2D are too. They've both been more..." Russel waved his hand around looking for the right word. "Upbeat, I guess. Lively maybe. I mean they were both sort of rejuvenated for a while after you were... well after you left. But that sort of faded after a while. I just thought you should know that they're both glad you're back and that you're trying." 

He studied Murdoc who didn't know what to say. It wasn't what he expected to say the least. He thought he would come downstairs and Russel would criticize him for drinking so much. Or for turning down their little outing yesterday. Not that he had explicitly said that _he himself_ was glad that he was back, but it was something. He figured Russel was always looking for ways to castigate him but it seemed as though he had been considering talking to Murdoc about this for a while. He _had_ been trying, so he was grateful. But that didn't take away from the embarrassment of it all; the fact that Russel felt like he needed to let him know that he saw made Murdoc feel like a child. Not to mention that the time on the stove read 7:53 am. 

His defense mechanisms had kicked in, and he wanted to tell him off. He wanted to tell him that he didn't need his approval, or his encouragement. But Russel knew him too well. "Russ, I-" Murdoc started.

"Just shut up, I already know what you're going to say. I just wanted to tell you because you deserve to know." Murdoc swallowed. 

_Deserve._ The voice leered. _What do you deserve except a cold dose of hate sex with no lube?_

"I..." His eyes still felt heavy. Tired. Satan, he was tired. Murdoc ran a hand over his face and through his hair, turning towards the sink so he didn't have to face Russel. "Whatever, mate."

Russel chuckled again at that. "You're welcome." They sat in silence for a while as Russel finished reading the paper and Murdoc stared at the coffee machine. 

After he had come back, Murdoc started thinking a lot about deserve. More specifically, about what _he_ deserved. Which, as it turns out, was not a lot considering everything he had put his band mates through. And again, more specifically, what he had put 2D through. The years of abuse he had submitted the man to came flooding back and this time Murdoc couldn't block it out. Trying to be better meant owning up to his mistakes and he was never good at that. And now that he couldn't drink as much, as per Noodle's request, he was forced to think about it all which, in turn, made his anxiety increase tenfold. And his tremors had gotten worse too. It was always a source of embarrassment for him alongside his tourettes, and now masking both had become so hard he ended up hiding away all the time. 

Even thinking about it now was getting frustrating, and he realized that he was fidgeting because Russel kept glancing at him. He was about to get up and leave when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. _A distraction._ He thought, relaxing a little. 

"Russel, 2D is asleep in Murdoc's room aga- Oh. Hi, Murdoc!" Noodle said as she walked into the kitchen. _Nevermind._ Murdoc turned around to give her a dull look. She laughed, not at all worried that she had just been caught talking about Murdoc and 2D, and put her hand on his shoulder as she walked to the coffee pot. "What are you doing awake? It is..." She glanced at the stove. "Eight in the morning." She grabbed a mug and poured herself some coffee, moving to the fridge to grab the creamer and sugar. Murdoc eyed her in her pajamas. 

"I couldn't sleep." He mumbled, crossing his arms on the table and setting his chin down on them. Noodle poured creamer into her mug and glanced at Murdoc who was watching her quietly. 

"Actually," Russel started. "I caught him throwing up as I was coming downstairs. Seems he went out last night." Murdoc's lip twitched in irritation. There it was: Russel's form of attack. Noodle looked at Murdoc solemnly. 

"Murdoc-"

"I didn't go out last night, I was here." He said angrily, looking at Russel. Then he turned his head back to Noodle who was still giving him a fatigued look. "You can't just expect all my years of habits to instantly get washed down the drain." He stated, moving onto the fact that he knew Noodle was about to berate him for drinking. 

Noodle sighed with a shrug and put the cream back in the fridge, turning to sit down. "No, but I know you were sober in prison." Murdoc winced a little and faced forward, staring at the table with half-lidded eyes. "Sorry, Murdoc. It's-"

"Just drop it." He growled. He wasn't really angry, he just didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want them to talk about how they noticed it bothered him when they brought up prison. Still, like everything he said, it came out wrong and Noodle ended up leaning back in her seat with an unsatisfied sigh. And just like that, the conversation was over. Like most of the conversations he had with his band.

They sat in silence again before Murdoc's eyes drooped and he realized he probably could go back to sleep if he went back to his room. Then he remembered 2D asleep in his bed and decided he would rather stay down here. His eyes slid shut and the pulsing of his wrist against his chin lulled him back to sleep. 

\------

Murdoc never really tried to keep himself happy per say. He did things to ignore what lingered inside; he drank and smoked and did drugs and had sex but none of them really made him happy. And he didn't really expect them to. He knew what he was avoiding and knew that there was no such thing as real happiness as long as it was there. There would be moments of elation, sure, where he might enjoy himself and his current situation but in the end, he would never be happy. He had accepted this, and he had accepted that his brother and his father and _his_ father before him were never happy either. It was what they called, The Niccals Curse. 

It had seemed that recently, pushing this back, this _thing_ , this curse, had become increasingly hard. He found himself very visibly flustered most of the time because this was not what he had expected when he decided to face who he had become. This was not what he thought would happen when he chose to change. He had expected it to be hard, sure, for obvious reasons, but he never thought that thing in the back of his mind would make a fresh appearance. That it would return with renewed vigor. 

But as he sat at the table and listened to the three in front of him bicker cheerfully, he felt it pushing at the makeshift closet in his head. It was where he stashed everything he didn't want to think about. It wasn't necessarily a closet, but a closet is what came to mind when he thought of everything that made him unhappy. And coincidentally, it looked a lot like the closet he hid in as a child when his father went looking for him. 

_"Murdoc!" His father shouted, muffled through the wood. He pressed himself further back, head hitting the wall behind him with a quiet thump. The coats on either side of him shifted and brushed against the side of his face, like gentle hands caressing him. He clenched his tiny fists and breathed in through his nose as silently as he could, squeezing his eyes shut. The footsteps grew louder outside the door but didn't stop, fading as he continued walking._

_"Where are you, you little shit?" His father said quietly, continuing to their small kitchen. Murdoc let out his breath. If he stayed in here long enough his father would pass out and forget about him in the morning. His shoulders trembled and six year old Murdoc steeled himself, remembering what Hannibal had said about crybabies._

They're pussies. _His brother's voice spit. Murdoc nodded a little to himself. "Pussies." He whispered, trying to toughen up a bit. He waited, eyes staring under the door for any sign of movement. "Pussies." He whispered again, voice quaking._ No. _He thought._ You can't be a crybaby. Hannibal doesn't like crybabies. _"Pussies." He shivered._

_Ultimately this was what gave him away, the door flying open to reveal his father who was shouting at him about coming when he was called. He flung Murdoc to the floor in a heap as the tears finally fell and his father called him a dog. "You come when I tell you!" He screamed._

"Murdoc." 

Murdoc looked up at the sound of his voice. 2D was staring at him. The other two were giving him looks as well. They were looks he was getting used to because they had only started when he had come back. He had always received looks like this living with them, but they were more hostile. The group originally thought it was because Murdoc was drunk so much of the time that he drifted off into himself. But it was soon realized after he had come back and had cut back on the drinking that that was not the case, and the looks became softer and more worried. 

"What." Murdoc said flatly. One of 2D's eyes squinted as he studied Murdoc, his lip curling up a little. 

"You- you were flinching, mate. Are you-"

"It's n- I'm fine." Murdoc supplied, irritated. Russel and 2D shared a quick look as Noodle pursed her lips and they started up their conversation again, pretending that the interaction hadn't happened. For Murdoc's sake, they all knew. 

After he had fallen asleep on the table, Noodle and Russel continued their conversation quietly until 2D made his way downstairs an hour and a half later. He asked where Murdoc was to find him asleep at the table and unintentionally woke him up when he exclaimed, 'Oh, there he is!' After that Murdoc watched them talk for a while before drifting into a half-awake state where his mind wandered. 

"Well, that's what I said to him." Noodle said laughing. Murdoc wasn't sure, but he thought Noodle was telling one of her stories from when Murdoc was on Plastic Beach and they all thought her dead. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut again. There was no running from it. Out of everything he wanted to run from, Plastic Beach loomed over the rest, constantly threatening him with everything he had done. It pounded its fist on the inside of the closet. He breathed in through his nose. 

"I don't think that's possible, Noodle, come on." Russel laughed, rubbing a hand over his mouth. 

"You're doubting me?" Noodle challenged, and Murdoc watched the exchange. She was smiling deviously, and Murdoc saw himself there. Before prison he would have been proud, but now he was only ashamed. Not of her, but that he had been such a heavy influence on her when he reminded himself so much of his father. That meant she had his father in her too. 

The idea made him sick.

"Nah, just the physics of it. I mean, there's no way you jumped that far." Russel exclaimed, and 2D laughed, leaning on his hand. 

"Ah but you forget, Russ, I am a super soldier." To accentuate her point she held up her arms and flexed. 2D laughed harder and Russel joined in, Noodle pulling faces to make them whoop louder. Murdoc wanted to laugh, but the idea that his father was in there somewhere with the girl he helped raise, very suddenly made tears well in his eyes. It seemed almost like he was a separate being inside of her. Like part of his soul had mingled with hers and quietly influenced her the way it felt like he did to Murdoc. He felt like he could never escape him, no matter how hard he tried. 

Noodle's eyes drifted to Murdoc and her smile fell. She was about to ask him what was wrong, he knew, but he moved fast enough that she never got the chance. He was sure she hadn't seen the tears in his eyes, and that if she had she would question if they were ever really there. He pushed himself away from the table and left the kitchen without a word. He quickly got rid of the growing tears with his fingers as the laughter died behind him.

"What happened?" He heard Russel ask. Murdoc didn't wait to listen for an answer and as he hit the first step on the stairs a hand touched his shoulder. He tensed and turned to see Noodle. She was giving him an anxious look, searching his eyes. Probably looking for tears. She would find none. 

"Murdoc, did I say something to upset you?" She asked.

 _Just kidding._ The voice said. _Just kidding, here they come._

Once again he was fighting them off, scratching at his arms and looking around the living room to avoid looking at her. He was tired of leaving mid-conversation. And he was tired of all the thoughts he couldn't stop thinking. And he was tired of everyone assuming they had done something to hurt him, blaming themselves, when in reality they should just blame Murdoc. It was all his fault. Always. 

"No, Noodle." He said, still trying not to look at her. It was his fault he saw his father in her. 

_No, you see yourself in her. Not your father._

_What's the difference?_ He thought back morosely. Eventually his eyes did find hers, and she watched him carefully as his mask went back up. He smiled lamely at her and knew he couldn't hold it for long so he turned to walk back up the stairs. 

She followed. "Murdoc, please."

He turned around again with a sigh and waited for her to say something, obviously having closed himself off. She swallowed and stepped down, hand on the banister, looking lost. He wondered what she was thinking. He wondered how he looked to her. 

_Pathetic._

_Who's side are you on?_ He thought, heatedly. He must have frowned because she frowned back.

"I only want you to talk to me." She stated, and took another step down. Her eyes drifted over the furniture in the living room and once again he was struck with guilt. 

He _hated_ this. Always feeling so powerless now. Always feeling guilty, and problematic and fucking _sad_. He had spent his whole life with this sadness so it was not foreign to him, but it was always forced into the closet. He never let it out. He never had a reason to. And now, suddenly, after prison it had come for him. He knew that the closet was still closed because, if he was being honest with himself, if that door had opened he probably would've killed himself by now. He had tried in the past. The most recent... When his hand on the doorknob had slipped and everything tumbled out. Pink beaches and white floors and blue, blue, blue. So much godammed blue. 

He bit the inside of his cheek and wanted to tell her that it wasn't her fault. That nothing was her fault and that nothing was Russel's fault, and that nothing was 2D's fault. Just his. But the pink and the white and the blue, blue, blue, it just kept coming and instead he turned and walked upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind himself. 

He carded his fingers through his hair. Could he not, for just a day, be okay? Be content? Why was everything now shrouded in this sadness? He pictured dark wisps, like fingers, curling under the door of his closet. Fingers running up his legs and over his shoulders and in his hair. He imagined himself looking around as if through a film, the fingers dancing over his eyes so the only way he could see the world was through this hazy, dismal, fog. He wanted a drink. He wanted to drink and drink until this empty, cloudy, being pulled its fingers back just enough for him to pretend they weren't there, behind him. Like it wasn't waiting for the moment when he would try to mend his broken relationships. 

He gulped and leaned against his bedside table. _No. No drinking._ He knew Noodle was probably upset enough, he didn't need to go getting drunk and making it worse. 

_You could, though._

He growled. "No." 

He sat back a moment to let himself catch his breath. This was an impossible task, getting better. _Being_ better. He knew what they needed from him. He knew that somehow he was supposed to open himself up to them and to tell them everything that plagued him, but he was stuck on _deserve_. Because he didn't _deserve_ their help. He didn't _deserve_ anything. He was shitty and they knew that, hell, _everyone_ knew that. And despite himself, and despite how much he knew it would have hurt him, he wondered why they didn't just let him go. What was the point in holding onto someone who had done so much damage in the past? What was the point in keeping him around if he could just hurt them again? He sighed and rubbed his face angrily. 

Always stuck between want and deserve. 

_You probably should have just died by your father's hand._

He shook his head and thought about how that voice went against everything human nature stood for. Shouldn't something like that be evolutionarily impossible? He laughed a little to himself because he was just that. An evolutionarily impossibility. Everything human nature stood against. Someone who went out of his way to make life for others harder.

The knock at the door made him jump. _No. Fuck._ He needed time. He needed time before he came back out. He stared at the door and whoever it was knocked again. _Fuck._

"What?" He shouted. There was silence and his lip twitched. He waited in the quiet and there was another knock. He growled and marched to the door, pulled it open and stood face to face with Noodle. _Of course._ He exhaled as she pushed her way past him and stood in the middle of his room amidst the remnants of his decaying mental health. "What." He asked again, though it was more defeated. 

She glanced around his room, her eyes dancing over bottles and clothes and drugs, lingering only a second longer on the newest hole in his wall before turning to him. He spoke again, expertly hiding his discomfort with a smirk as he shut the door. "I already had a heart to heart with Russel this morning. Don't worry, he told me you were ecstatic that I was back." 

She didn't answer. He watched her watch him and he wondered yet again, what was going through her head. She was still in her pajamas: pink shorts and one of 2D's graphic t-shirts that had a clown on it with the writing 'I Eat Children'. He would have laughed if she didn't look like he had just run over Katsu. On purpose nonetheless.

He turned away from her and pulled out a cigarette from the carton on his bedside table. lighting up and turning back to her. "Fancy a smoke?" He said around his fag. 

She pursed her lips and turned back to the hole he had made in the wall. She pointed at it. "What's this?"

"It's a hole."

"Why?" Was all she said.

"Well, when a fist and a wall love each other very much-"

"Murdoc-"

"I mean, it's a bit taboo I'll admit, but they really do love each other. Or they did, y'know, before the divorce. Now the hole just sits there and wonders why it's parents don't care enough about it to ask it what's wrong because it _knows_ they can hear it masturbating in its room all day-"

"Murdoc _damare_ -"

"I don't understand why you feel the need to come into my room- this is my room by the way, or have you just forgotten where yours was? Because I don't seem to recall you getting lost before."

She stared at him, teeth clenched behind her pretty lips, and blinked once, twice, and then three times. 

He continued. "Why are you here, Noodle?" 

"Because you need help, Murdoc." 

He swallowed and took a drag off his cigarette before pulling it away from his mouth and flicking the end angrily into the overflowing ashtray. He watches the remains float aimlessly as he answers, "I'm not drinking as much, as per your request, so-"

"You know what I mean."

"Ah. Excuse my French, but no I don't." They stared each other down angrily. 

"You have to tell me."

He continued to ogle her. "Bloody hell, Noods, if you don't start making sense-"

"You have to tell me what is wrong!" She said, pointing her finger at his chest. "You have to admit that you are upset, because I cannot help you if you do not-"

"I didn't ask for your help." He said through gritted teeth.

"Well, maybe it is time you did." She retorted before continuing bitterly, "Instead of sitting in your room masturbating all day while we wonder what is wrong."

He gave a humorless laugh and flicked more ash into the ashtray. "Y'know, that's not _all_ I do. I like to shake things up sometimes. Bring someone home." 

" _Chikushou_." Noodle mumbled. She turned away and murmured a few more things in Japanese, putting her hands on her hips and staring at the hole with palpable acidity. There was a tense silence as Murdoc smoked, watching her shoulder blades twitch through 2D's shirt. How often had he silently studied her? It had been strange when she had showed up, little ten year old Noodle who couldn't speak English to save her life. Though that didn't give anyone much anxiety considering everything _else_ she could do to make up for it. For as long as she'd been around he had been standing behind her, watching on silently while Russel and 2D stood in front and raised her properly. He'd been too afraid to be around her, or at least, to be an influence on her considering his own childhood. The realization that his past fears were not born out of insecurity but truth made him feel light-headed. Still, he had always been there making sure he was around when she needed him. 

Eventually she turned around with a determined look and walked towards him. He tensed, his hand stalling against his lips as she placed her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him. She wasn't that much shorter than him; only a few inches, but she still had to turn her chin up just a bit. He gulped and glowered at her, waiting for her to talk, but she would't. She just continued to stare, both their eyes skipping back and forth between each other as her hands grew warm against his bony shoulders and he fought the urge to squirm. 

"What?" He snapped, exhaling smoke over her head. 

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again suddenly looking less confident than she had a second ago. It was a foreign expression on her, her lower lip jutted out just barely, one eyebrow drawn further down than the other making a small crease above her nose. "You have not brought anyone home since you have been back." She stared at him, willing him to understand. He didn't. He refused. He had an idea where this was going, but he didn't want to think about the possibility that she was talking about thoughts Murdoc had never even contemplated about saying aloud. _Of course I haven't brought anyone back, I've been enjoying my own bed too much to share it._ He thought. 

_Are you fucking kidding me?_ The voice retorted. _What about 2D? If you're going to lie to yourself at least make it a good one._

He gritted his teeth. In recent days that voice had done a damn good job of stealing all his insults. It made him sound dry to everyone else. 

"Noodle," He said, tense still, at her proximity. "You should keep workin' on your English, love, because-" 

"Is it 2D?" She asked suddenly. All the air left Murdoc's lungs, and he went completely still. 

It was the wrong reaction. He should laugh, throw his head back and howl at the idea, wiping tears from his eyes as the concern faded from Noodle's. Before prison he would have. His facade was much better to maintain back then. But he couldn't believe her. How she always was paying attention to everything. How her eyes were always watching and her ears were always listening and somehow every time she took him by surprise at her alertness. And she had done it again. What had he been doing to make her think it was because of 2D?

He gaped at her, mouth shut, hand suspended next to his mouth in shock. What was he supposed to say? 

_"Yeah, how'd you guess?"_

_"Were my moans not quiet enough?"_

_"Yeah, I've been pining for pretty boy since day one."_

_That's not true._ He thought bitterly. 

_Fuck off, it's not true._ The voice protested. 

Instead all he managed was a wheezing, "What?"

He knew when she asked if it was 2D, that she meant that was why he hadn't brought anyone home. But he knew she was also asking if everything that was wrong with him recently was because of him. _That_ thought made him want to laugh. The idea that Dents was the reason he had been acting so fucking depressed instead of actual depression. Some crush instead of a lifetime of abuse and regrets and mistakes. 

This time he did manage a laugh. It was small, but it was a laugh. Her eyebrows furrowed and as Murdoc started to move around a bit more she slid her hands down his arms and squeezed his biceps to keep him still. "Noodle, what are you on about?"

Once again her eyebrows furrowed, and if Murdoc wasn't mistaken there was pain there. Or pity. He hoped he was mistaken. "Murdoc-"

"Y'know, Dents is many things, but he's not a sexual conquest of mine." He laughs again and wriggles out of her grasp. "It's not a bad idea though, it could be interesting. 2D has a bit of clout, the git, for being so attractive, maybe there's something there." He could feel himself digging the hole. Deeper and deeper he was getting but he couldn't stop, he just wanted Noodle to stop questioning him. He wanted her off his back. He wanted space. 

He inhaled very deeply to ground himself, his back to her, and then took a drag off his cigarette. He was about to speak again but she beat him to it. "Murdoc, there is nothing... I want to help you."

He turned his head to look at her out of the corner of his eye. "I don't need your help."

"Yes you do, you just do not want it. Please, Murdoc, if not for your sake then for mine, stop lying to yourself." She came around to face him and put a hand on his chest. He flinched, but stayed put, mouth pressed into a firm line. "Please let me help, you've been doing better... but you seem so sad all the time... _Onegai_ , Murdoc."

Murdoc stepped back again, turning to his bedside table and stubbing out his cigarette with a shaky hand. "Noods, if I wanted help I would have gone to the nearest bar for a shag. That's all I need anyways." As he said this he turned back to her and watched her face stiffen. She was getting frustrated with him, realizing she had come into his room to make progress and still had none. Noodle turned her head away in thought. 

Murdoc thought about young Noodle. Who wore her helmet all the time and laughed a lot. Who jabbered in Japanese to the men who didn't know what she was saying but loved her anyways. He thought about how he'd come back to headquarters after Mexico and told her to speak, which she had; and she'd called him a bastard too which made him smile. She turned to him now, fingers pressed to her mouth in disappointment and the little girl he knew then was not the woman he knew now. His heart clenched. 

"'M sorry." He blurted and he dug his tongue into the back of his lips in bashfulness. Her face softened and she turned her body towards him again, obviously expecting more. She ended up staring at him awkwardly while he rubbed at his eyes.

It wasn't a real apology. There was too much to apologize for, and this one had tumbled out of his mouth in a last minute grab for pity. A desperate attempt to convey what little he allowed himself to accept. He wanted her to leave. He wished he could apologize to her properly, to all of them, but it would never come. It would always push from the inside of the closet with everything else he refused to acknowledge. Clawing at it while he drank his liquor and fucked his groupies and pretended he couldn't hear the frantic screams behind the wood of his childhood nightmare.

He would never apologize. He would never get better. Murdoc could not recognize the depth of the hole he had managed to dig himself because he refused to accept that there was a hole. And it would be his downfall, he knew. But for now he was content to pretend that there wasn't a hole. Or a door. Or three people who needed him to tell them what was persecuting him, because the only person who was doing it anymore was himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starts out okay and then it gets depressing again, sorry. Also I know it's slow going but after this chapter it will get a lot faster I promise, cause this one's not very good.
> 
> Also suicidal thoughts/ actions but nothing _too_ serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i definitely could have finished this two days ago but instead i watched Bird Box and then fell asleep with clothes in the washer because i don't know how to manage my time.

It was dark again. Murdoc had the window open, leaning with his upper body slung carelessly out over the edge, smoking a cigarette. He watched the orange turn pink, which turned purple, which was slowly ebbing into a dark blue as the lights from the city grew brighter. He inhaled on the cigarette, baring his teeth as it rolled through his lungs and slithered out between his lips again. 

Noodle's birthday was coming up again, on Halloween. She would be twenty-eight. Murdoc put his head in his hand and rubbed his face. He felt old. If the constant ache in his body wasn't telling enough, that fact that Noodle continued to age too, was. He thought back to their argument from earlier. She was so much like him. She had a lot of Russel and 2D in her too, but it was easy to tell who she really took after. Murdoc resented himself for that. He eyed a car as it drove down the street and sighed. 

There were kids hanging out the windows, cheering as they sped away and Murdoc remembered his friends doing the same thing in the same Astra he'd hit 2D in, only they'd been smashing mailboxes. He'd been thirty-one, leaning out car windows, smashing mailboxes with people barely old enough to drink. Then he'd _hit_ a kid barely old enough to drink. Then he'd _abused_ a kid barely old enough to drink. 

He inhaled on his cigarette. 

That kid was downstairs with the girl he never considered a daughter and the man who hated Murdoc seemingly more than Murdoc hated himself. Which was saying something. 

He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out on the window sill before letting it fall into the bushes below. As soon as he dropped the spent fag, he lunged for it but wasn't fast enough and instead watched it sink into the shrubs, disappearing until Noodle went around the house to water the plants and yelled at him for it. It was a habit that he was trying to break. Like many. 

He closed his window with another sigh and drew the curtains, turning to his bed, but he barely made it a step before his boot caught on a shirt and he fell hard. He hit the ground with less of a thump and more of a _Jesus fucking Christ, man down,_ and smashed his elbow on the only showing part of floorboard there was under all the mess. He shouted in pain and then groaned and sat up, gripping his elbow and eyeing the dirty sweater with malice, before letting his eyes wander over the dimly-lit room. It really was a thing of awe that he hit any part of his body on the floor. From his position, it was nearly impossible to see it anywhere under everything, and he figured it was probably time to clean his room. It was like he was sixteen again. Murdoc's face involuntarily pinched and he pushed the thought away, standing. 

Once he was on his feet again there was a knock at the door. He took a deep breath and forced himself not to sigh angrily, instead making his way through the mess to the chipping door. 

He pulled it open, expecting Noodle. That's exactly who he got. "Noodle." He stated as a hello but he made no move to let her in or follow her out. 

She eyed him for a minute, eyebrows furrowed before asking, "Are you okay? We heard something fall. It did not sound good so I decided I would come check on you."

Murdoc's hand twisted on the doorknob as he answered. "Yeah, it was nothing. I'm not _that_ old, love, don't worry." As if on cue the throbbing in his elbow intensified, but he gave a gritty laugh and continued. "If it makes you feel any better I still have that life alert Russel got me a few years ago, so if I fall I'll just wait for the ambulance to show up to cart me to the morgue because there's no way in hell you'll catch me using that bloody thing unless I'm dead." 

This made Noodle laugh, and for a second she looked at him like she used to. Or maybe not. She never looked at him the same way after Plastic Beach. But at the moment she seemed okay to talk to him like she had when she still babbled in Japanese and playfully shoved him while they were recording Demon Days. His smile faltered a bit. Then so did hers, and they were back to the way things were. Back to the argument they had that afternoon.

He cleared his throat, "Well-"

"Will you come sit with us?" She blurted. 

He thought of yesterday. He made a face. "I don't think that's a good idea, love."

She stared at him now, face unflinching as she thought. Then she ordered, "Come downstairs, Murdoc." He was taken aback at her decisiveness and felt his lips twitch in amusement and admiration. Another trait she had learned from him, but one she had mastered in her years away. She also had a way of making Russel her bitch when she said the right things to him so he assumed she had figured out what would make him break as well. Her face softened then, too, when she saw him hold back a smile. "I won't let you hide up here forever." 

He sighed and turned back to his room, hand still wrenching the doorknob back and forth. "Alright, fine. But if we get into it-"

"You won't." She said matter-of-factly, smiling as she led them downstairs. 

2D and Russel were sitting in the living room watching the TV and occasionally saying something to each other about the movie that was on. Russel didn't turn around when he asked, "Well, is the old man okay or do we need to take a trip to the hospital?"

Murdoc frowned at the back of his head. "Y'know Russ, last time we went to the hospital," Both Russel and 2D whipped around at his voice. "It was because _2D_ fell and busted 'is nose. When have I ever needed medical care?"

"Murdoc!" 2D exclaimed with a smile. 

Russel laughed. "How about the time _I_ busted _your_ nose?" Noodle sat down on the couch next to 2D who's arm was slung behind her. 

Murdoc's eyebrow spasmed but he shook his head and sat down in the chair across from Russel's. "Doesn't count. _I_ didn't do that. _You_ did, mate." He smiled, self-righteous. 

Russel laughed again, and shifted in his seat so he was more forward. "Nah, you definitely did it."

Murdoc could feel the air growing stifling, all the attention on him at the passive mention of Paula and the bathrooms at Kong, so he tried to steer them off topic. "Fine, but that's irrelevant when I have a doctorate. I don't _need_ a hospital." He laughed now and as soon as the tension was there, it was gone. I might not have even been there to begin with. It wouldn't be the first time his imagination got the better of him. None of them looked upset, not even 2D who was smiling at both of them. 

_Imagination, is that what you're calling it?_

_What would you call it, then?_ He thought back quickly as Russel laughed a third time and made to answer. 

_Realization, mate._

"A doctorate you got in a jail cell in Mexico, man."

Murdoc rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the voice. "Are we back on this again?" Noodle was laughing at him from the couch and he scowled at her, then eyed 2D who wasn't even paying attention anymore, he was watching the TV. He turned back to Russel. "Do you know how to staunch bleeding and stitch gashes and cauterize bleeds, mate? How about reset bones? Do you know the difference between a stroke and a brain bleed? What about the difference between an ischemic stroke and a hemorrhagic stroke? Are-"

"Alright man, okay!" Russel chuckles, holding his hands up in mock defeat. Russel and Noodle are both laughing but they finally look properly amazed, so Murdoc lets his shoulders slack and leans back in his chair with a grin. "If I ever get a paper cut I know who to go to."

Murdoc laughs at that and grabs the box of tissues on the table next to him, hurling it at Russel. Russel laughs too, moving so it hits him on the shoulder and picks it up just as quick, throwing it back at Murdoc who dodges it completely. It flies over his head and hits the shades behind them. Noodle shouts at them in Japanese to stop and they both settle down, giggling. 

It had been a long time since he really got along with Russel, since he'd gotten along with any of them really (yesterday was a testament to that), but since he'd been back the drummer seemed more at ease with him. He had been talking to him and joking with him in ways he never had, and while Murdoc hated to think it and would probably never say it, he liked the attention he got from him. He knew now why Noodle spent so much time with him growing up. Noodle, who had shouted at them for nearly breaking the blinds, was smiling faintly (smugly) at Murdoc from her position on the couch. 

She had her legs crossed, hands gripping her ankles as she watched the two older men now bicker playfully from their respective chairs. They talked more civilly now, occasionally poking at each other verbally before Russel made a joke about how 2D was lost in his own world again. They all looked at him when Noodle bounced her leg where it lay atop his thigh but his focus remained on the TV, a crease between his eyebrows as he focused on the black and white cowboys. Murdoc observed him quietly as Noodle and Russel began to talk between themselves. 

Murdoc was very good at scrutinizing people. While he was still living with Jacob he had learned to watch people very closely, studying them and their motives. He enjoyed people watching even then, though it was born out of his father's paranoia and had morphed into his own version of mania; only studying them to keep them at bay. Ensuring his own safety while simultaneously isolating himself. It was something he still did. But studying others had always been something he did. It was something he enjoyed. And 2D wasn't any different.

When they had first met, there wasn't much to study. For obvious reasons. 2D would say it was because they hadn't technically met yet, but Murdoc chose to state otherwise. Because while there wasn't _much_ to study, there were still things that made 2D stand out. 

First it was his room. Murdoc was confined to watching him in his parents' house, trapped upstairs for ten hours every other day because they didn't want their son, their _vegetable_ son, outside. So Murdoc resigned himself to snooping around his things; digging through drawers and dressers and under his bed. It was more studying then he'd ever had access to, though, naturally, he was confined to just the kid's things. He couldn't talk to him. And while he could make his assumptions from his _The Human League_ posters on his walls and _The Smiths_ CD's he kept stacked next to his goddy boombox, from his strange graphic tee's and assorted collection of keyboards, there wasn't a whole lot to go on. Once he ran out, he ran out. 

So he was once again left with what he had upstairs that he hadn't scrutinized. Which was the kid. And he had taken to talking to him after a while. He wasn't so good at being alone, which is what it felt like with someone who was essentially a giant stuffed animal. Taxidermic 2D. So he started talking to him. Eventually he was having full on conversations with him, sitting in a chair in front of him as he slumped over on the end of his bed, halfheartedly wiping drool off his chin. Murdoc watched him then, too. Waiting for him to sit up and laugh at him for all the things he said. Waiting for him to tell Murdoc that he was faking so he could share everything about the crazy man who spoke to dead people. But 2D never woke up. 

He studied and examined and pondered over the kid whose life he had ruined until he eventually got Rachel to let them leave the house and flung him out the windshield in a Tesco car park. 

After that they spent more time together as Murdoc realized he could sing and knew he'd finally had the beginnings of a real band. The years following only made watching him easier as Stu was never really closed off to begin with. And because Murdoc was the cause of his constant migraines, he had become familiarized with the face he made when Stu got a headache: a crease between the eyebrows, pinched lips, clenched hands. His temple twitched a lot too which meant 2D was grinding his jaw over and over again.

He had that look now. His adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, nails digging into his palms. Murdoc glanced at Noodle and Russel who were still talking. They knew when 2D got migraines too, of course. Noodle had grown up with him and Russel had shown up not long after the band became a real possibility, so they knew when he was starting to hurt. But for some reason Murdoc never missed it. Even if 2D just had a regular headache, Murdoc knew. He attributed it to the fact that he had spent so long studying him before, and it was the truth. But there was something much deeper there that he chose to ignore because... it didn't matter.

Still, he sighed and leaned forward to grab 2D's wrist which was resting on his knee. 2D's hand twitched under Murdoc's palm and he finally looked at him, crease deepening between his brows. 

"Mate, I think you're getting a migraine." Stu watched him for a second, coming out of that place he drifted to when his head did start to hurt. He had a dazed look on his face, his eyes hazy and drooping. Finally he came back. 

"Oh. Yeah, you're right." He smiled a little and looked down tiredly. "I should go take my meds then. I fink I might just go to sleep too, I'm a bit tired." Murdoc nodded, waiting for Stuart to move. He didn't though, and Murdoc's eyes eventually followed Stuart's droopy ones until they landed on Murdoc's hand which was still grasping 2D's wrist. 

He could feel eyes on him as he let go and sat back in his chair, avoiding 2D's gaze. Noodle and Russel were still talking so he figured they hadn't noticed anything. One glance at them and he realized that, no, they hadn't noticed that Murdoc had grabbed Stu's arm and forgot he was still holding on. He briefly looked back at 2D who looked tired as hell but was wearing a small smile. 

Murdoc shook his head, brows furrowed. "Go to bed, Stu." He turned towards the TV then, crossing his arms, and 2D stood up. It drew both of the others' attention and he said goodnight to each of them, telling them his head was starting to hurt. They said goodnight and flashed Murdoc looks before going back into their conversation. If Murdoc could still hear correctly, they were talking about Russel's truck which hadn't been doing so well. 

Murdoc started when 2D's hand landed on his shoulder and he pulled away minutely, uncomfortable at the sudden affection. 2D took the hint and let his hand slide off before wringing them together. 

"Goodnight, Muds." He murmured. And then he was up the steps and out of sight. Murdoc sat for a second, arms still crossed and staring at the TV, thinking about how the night had gone. His and Noodle's argument from earlier came back to him. He looked at her. She still had on her clothes from the day and her knee was drawn up to her chest, her arm wrapped around her leg and her body leaning towards Russel. His face softened and then his body followed a bit, neck and shoulders relaxing as he watched them talk about going to the family owned auto shop down the road to fix the engine on his banged up truck. 

He's wasn't sure how long he went between listening to them talk and watching the TV but finally Noodle stood up stretching, saying she had errands to run tomorrow and that she was tired. She placed her hand on Russel's bald head and said goodnight with a smirk. He chuckled and batted her hand away. She walked past Murdoc, letting her hand trail good-naturedly along the arm he had resting on the side of the chair, but didn't say anything. She smiled at him instead. 

He blinked once lazily at her, begrudgingly smiling with his eyes as she, too, made her way upstairs. Murdoc looked back at Russel who was yawning, settling into his own chair as he changed the channel from the old western. 

When Noodle was little and still didn't speak any English, she used her hands a lot instead to say things. They eventually learned some Japanese words out of routine, like when she asked for food or to play. But she still used her hands to get some of her more complex points across. And even as a kid she was a cheeky thing, and loved to make fun of Russel's bare head. Russel didn't mind. And one night, not long after she'd first been shipped to them, she was saying goodnight to him and just put her hand on his head. 

_"Oyasumi nasai."_ She said, and just... left it there. It made Russel laugh, which made Noodle smile one of her very bright, childlike smiles. So every night after, she would say goodnight to Russel and would put her hand on the top of his head. It almost never failed to make him laugh so she never stopped. For years after, it had made Murdoc jealous. They had plenty of their own small traditions, the same way her and 2D did, but for some reason that particular ritual made him extremely envious. He still wasn't sure why it once made him so irrationally resentful, but after prison, seeing it made him smile. 

Murdoc sat with Russel for a little while longer, watching him flip through channels until he finally came across one that he was satisfied with, which happened to be TLC. It made Murdoc chortle silently, but eventually he stood and said he was going to bed too. While it was easier to be around Russel and to joke with him, and even though Russel had said what he had that morning, things were still not quite solid between them, and with the others gone it made it harder. 

Russel bid him goodnight and made another joke about how if he hears someone knocking on his door, chances are Russel had a paper cut and needed medical help. Murdoc rolled his eyes and told him to sod off, at which Russel tittered at again. 

Murdoc started to make his way upstairs but stopped when he realized he would be going to sleep soon and hadn't had anything to drink all day. He glanced at the kitchen and remembered last night, wondering if he really should be drinking. He'd been doing pretty good and it wasn't like he planned on quitting completely, but the looks Noodle gave him when he did drink sucked. Still, he was afraid his nightmares would wake him up again. 

He squinted at the kitchen deciding, before he came to the conclusion that, yes, he would like to drink until he passed out so he might sleep. He made for the kitchen, preparing himself mentally for the verbal beating he would get tomorrow, when a shadow moved in the dark by the table. Murdoc froze. 

_It's him._

All the hair on his body stood on end and he watched, heart pounding, as Katsu slunk out from under the table and stared at Murdoc with foreboding eyes. He let go of the railing on the stairs as the color returned to his knuckles and let his arms fall. 

"Sodding cat." He mumbled. But he settled with just taking his chances when it came to sleep tonight. He eyed the cat one last time as he licked his jowls and flicked his tail. Then Murdoc was upstairs and in his room without another look. 

\------

When Murdoc woke the next day it was already past three. He only had a mild nightmare. It was bad enough that he knew it was a nightmare and because he never had good dreams, but mellow enough that he didn't know what it had been about. He wondered if maybe Noodle would get onto him for sleeping in, but then he remembered that she had gone out today, so he was safe for the time being. He dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom to pee before going to stand on the top of the stairs to see where the other two were. 

He caught a glimpse of Russel who was moving around in the kitchen. When he turned towards the sink he saw Murdoc and faced him. "Hey, I'm about to leave, do you think you two could make sure the other doesn't die?"

Murdoc was still half asleep and couldn't really bring himself to scowl so he just stared at Russel with dull eyes. He knew he was joking so Murdoc didn't take it to heart, and it wasn't like it hurt anyways. Russel continued doing whatever he was doing before turning back to the man on the stairs when he didn't answer. 

"Awesome, thanks." He shook his head and disappeared behind the door frame in the kitchen. 

Murdoc let him be, opting to go back to his room and smoke a cigarette or maybe jack off. For a brief moment as he walked back to his room he considered leaving the house. Maybe he could go have dinner in an actual restaurant, in actual clothes and he could drink a normal amount. He could go for a walk and see the sun and when it started to sink he could go see a shitty movie and complain about it to Stu when he got back and went to bed at a decent time. Then he pushed open the door to his room and saw the state of his floor and settled for staying here. 

He sighed, gaze flitting over everything and wondered where to start. 

_Just ignore it, it's gonna go back to shit again anyways, mate._

Murdoc pretended the voice hadn't said anything and made for the clothes scattered everywhere. He would start with laundry. It was simple enough anyways, though he couldn't remember the last time he _had_ done laundry. And the times he had were few and far in between. 

Still. 

He picked up every sock and shirt and a pair of dirty underwear which, even he had to admit, he was afraid to touch too much. Once he had a substantial pile he scooped it in his arms and made his way down the stairs to the basement. At one point on the stairs he almost tripped and ruined his ankle but he got his footing and continued on, grumbling and cursing to himself as Russel carried on in the kitchen. 

When he got to the basement door it was already open, and at the bottom he heard humming. He rolled his eyes. Stu must have been doing his laundry too, fan-fucking-tastic. Of course he'd be doing fucking laundry when Murdoc decided to. It was about as rare for 2D to be doing his laundry as Murdoc's, which was once in a blue moon. But he had already hauled all of it (or at least most of it) all the way down here, so he could just leave it by the washer and come back once Stu's was done. 

He sighed and made his way down the basement stairs. Doing this shit was stupid. He could afford to have somebody come do all of this for him, why was _he_ doing it? 

He made it to the bottom of the steps and saw 2D leaning against the washer, starting it up. When he turned he jumped and slammed his elbow against the dryer. "Oh, fuck! Murdoc- oh shit." He ran a hand through his hair and laughed as Murdoc dropped his clothes in front of the washer. "What, are you doing your laundry too?" He was rubbing his elbow like Murdoc had been doing last night when he fell.

Murdoc squinted, looking around the dingy room. "No, D, I brought all my clothes down here because I thought they would look better on _this_ floor than on mine." He saw a sketchy bottle on a shelf and made his way over, picking it up. 

"If that was supposed to be sarcastic, I fink you should remember who you are, mate, 'cause that sounds like something you would do." 

Murdoc gave him a look as he opened the bottle and sniffed. 2D made a face and Murdoc gagged, screwing the lid back on and putting back. He was coughing when he said, "Aw, what the bloody hell was that? What's down here? Who put all this shit here?" He gestured to the things along the shelves and littered in the back by the water heater. 

2D leaned back against the dryer, elbows behind him nonchalantly as he shrugged his shoulders halfheartedly. "I fink most of it's Russ's. Some of it's Noodle's though, you know she likes to collect stuff. And if I'm not wrong, Murdoc, some of it's yours from all your little antique shop... uh, w-what's the word?"

"Endeavors?" Murdoc filled in for him as he picked up an old _Blue's Brothers_ record. 

"Yeah, I fink that's it." 2D watched him sift through things for a few minutes in silence. Murdoc ended up finding some of Noodle's old toys that survived not only Kong, but also Plastic Beach, and Wobble Street somehow. He also saw a couple tools for Russel's taxidermy, which he quickly put down, and yes, some of his antiques: records, clothes, even some books he had yet to read. 

He looked over at 2D who was staring at the water heater with empty eyes. Murdoc didn't like it when 2D just stared. For a long time it made him uncomfortable and angry when he did it, so he would hit him to get him to snap out of it. Or throw things at him or say things to make him give Murdoc hurtful looks. Murdoc put down the book he was holding (something about WWII poetry), rubbed his face angrily to get the memories to go away and looked at Stu for a second, his hair disheveled where his fingers caught in his bangs. 

"2D." 

He stayed staring at the water heater. Murdoc studied him to make sure he was not getting a migraine, but his temple stayed still and his hands stayed uncurled next his his ribs so Murdoc tried again. 

"Faceache." Still, nothing. 

Over time that insult had faded. Like a scar, it was still there and it still reminded them of when it stung, but now it was harmless. Not said out of malice but more with some kind of wobbly alliance, and it grew the longer he was out of prison. They all knew it wasn't true anyways, 2D was bloody gorgeous. 

Murdoc ambled over with his arms crossed and leaned in front of him. "Oi, pretty boy." 2D's gaze finally followed Murdoc as he leaned back. He sat up a little, a shy smile on his face. 

"Sorry, Muds." 

Murdoc shook his head. He didn't want him to apologize anymore. Not for being himself and certainly not for not hurting anyone. _Murdoc_ hurt people and he could never do enough apologizing. And while 2D was a prick sometimes too, it never really amounted to the amount of pain Murdoc had caused him and everyone else in the band. Even Ace at one point. And now 2D was apologizing for _staring_. For fucking staring. Because Murdoc had made him feel like shit for it in the past. 

He swallowed. "Don't- ah..." He shook his head and sighed, gesturing to the back where he had been staring. "What were you staring at?"

2D followed his shoulder's gesture back to the dark at the end of the basement. "Nothing, actually. I was just... finking." He shrugged and gave Murdoc a gentle smile. 

Murdoc's heart beat a little faster. "Well, what were you thinking about that had you on fucking Mars, mate?" He uncrossed his arms and walked past 2D to another shelf. Stu followed him this time, standing next to him and picking up things as he spoke.

"Um, I don't really know. Lots of things." A door shut upstairs and they both turned to look, realizing it was the front door. "What was that?"

Murdoc turned back around and set the ugly old lamp down. "Russel."

2D turned his attention back to Murdoc who was picking up an old painting now. "Where's he going?"

Murdoc shrugged and turned the painting over. It was of the woods. Orange and yellow leaves against a grey backdrop with a small grey river and thin grey trees. There wasn't a name on it. "I dunno, he didn't say." He set the painting down and noticed another one that had been hiding underneath it. He pulled that one out and put the other back, looking over the baleful yellow field under a grey sky, like it had been raining. Grey mountains loomed in the back and a lone raven was perched on a tree at the edge of the clearing. He thought of Cortez. "What kind of things?"

2D, who had moved a little further to his left and was holding a tennis racket, looked up at him. "What?"

Murdoc set the painting down and turned away, eyes catching what appeared to be a bong. _Oh hell yes_. He thought. "What kind of things were you thinking of?" He asked again, grabbing the bong excitedly, only to realize there was a hole in the glass on the other side where someone had dropped it. "Bollocks." He said, and set it down angrily. He turned to face 2D now who was turning the racket over and over again in his hands. 

"I don't know, Murdoc." Stu didn't look him in the eye. He wondered what he had been thinking of that he felt he couldn't share with the older. But 2D seemed to have a guarded, almost sad look about him after being asked about it.

Murdoc squinted at him. "So you were stood there, thinking of lots of things, but you don't know what those things were?" 2D looked up at him now with a small scowl and Murdoc raised an eyebrow. There were several other things sitting just behind his sharp teeth that he could say to him, but he kept his mouth shut in favor of the new looks 2D had a habit of giving him. 

2D put the racket down with an annoyed sigh. "I fink I'm going to go watch TV or somefing." Murdoc didn't say anything else and watched him ascend the stairs, his untied Converse strings trailing wistfully behind him. He sighed and leaned against a shelf, eyes wandering around the room before landing on his pile of clothes again and remembering he still had the rest of his own room to deal with. He growled and pushed himself off the wall, stomping up the stairs and emerging in the hallway downstairs. He walked through to the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing two bottles of beer and shutting the door behind him with his foot. He strode through the living room where 2D was watching TV on the couch, and made his way up the stairs. Half way, he felt eyes on him and turned to see the other man watching him make his way to his room. 

Murdoc pressed his lips together and stopped on the landing. 2D looked between the TV and Murdoc, waiting for him to say something.  
He considered just letting him sit on the couch by himself to watch crap telly, but he also considered getting him to help clean his room. He chewed his cheek minutely and blinked at the top of the stairs in thought. Did he want to drag 2D into cleaning his room? Did he want to have to talk to him about things they had been avoiding for Satan even knows how long?

No.

He imagined the voice laughing at him so he shook his head and took one last look at 2D before climbing the rest of the staircase and disappearing behind the frame in the hallway. Stu looked something like remorseful when he glanced at him, and Murdoc wondered if it was because he had refused to tell him what he was thinking when they were in the basement. 

_Serves him right._ Murdoc thought. 

_He doesn't owe you anything._ The voice reiterated. _If anything, you owe him._

Murdoc shut the door to his room and slumped against it, beers getting slippery in his hands. He set one down on his bedside table and cracked the other one open, taking a long drink before surveying the room with a hand on his hip. 

"Fuck." He whispered. This was going to take a while. He set his beer down and got started. 

He opened the door again to go to the bathroom for the trash bags they kept under the sink, grabbing them and catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He stood up straight and stared at his sallow skin. He was looking old now too. His hair looked thick and black as ever, which helped keep up the image that he was still fairly young, but the deep purple bags under his eyes and crows feet around them were starting to give him away. 

He was fifty-two, still an alcoholic, could barely clean his room or do his laundry, and had no friends. Not really. And it was his fault. He continued to stare at the person in the mirror. And the longer he stared, the more he realized, he had become his father. His chest clenched and he took a deep breath as he left the bathroom, trash bags clutched in his hands and trying to ignore the laughing he could swear he could hear in his head. 

He was squeezing his eyes shut as he walked back to his room when he ran into someone in the hallway, standing in front of his door. Murdoc grunted as his face smashed against 2D's exceptionally bony shoulder and said man yelped as he was accidentally pushed into the door frame. 

Murdoc grabbed his nose with a growl. "What the fuck are you doing, Dents?" 

2D straightened and gave Murdoc a look. "What d'you mean? I'm not the one who bloody ran into you!" He was gesturing to Murdoc as he spoke, and his gaze drifted down towards his hand were he held the bags. "What are you doing?" 

Murdoc shouldered his way past him into his room. "I thought you were going to watch TV because you don't like it when people ask you questions." He set one of the bags down and shook the other one open, pausing to drink some of his beer. 

2D eyed the other one and said, "Well you're one to talk." 

They both stood for a second, Murdoc holding a cold stare and clutching his beer as he looked at 2D through his bangs, and 2D taking up nearly the whole door jamb with his gangly body. Murdoc shook his head, sighed, and set his beer down to pick up cigarettes and wads of paper. 

2D continued to stand in the doorway, though he leaned in curiously. "You're cleaning your room." 

Murdoc stayed bent over, throwing things in the trash bag as he went. He didn't want 2D here. It was easy to pretend things were normal between them when it was dark outside and Murdoc was half awake from a nightmare, but now the sun was shining on them both through the cracks in his shoddy curtains and there was so much more to talk about. He thought about the term normal when applied to both of them. Or any of them. 

It was used very loosely. 

When Murdoc didn't answer, 2D spoke again with a heavy exhale. "D'you want some help, Murdoc?" But Murdoc didn't answer again, instead opting for something like the silent treatment. Though it wasn't to be mean, necessarily, it was just because no matter what he said, 2D would insist on helping him and Murdoc didn't want to talk. Even if neither of them had explicitly said they would have to have a serious talk, there was still a chance and Murdoc knew it would end bad because it always did. 

2D pursed his lips and seemed to think very hard about something for a second before finally stepping into Murdoc's room and grabbing the other trash bag off the bed. 

Murdoc stood up and faced him then. "What are you doing?" He asked, defensive. 

2D shook the bag out and began to pick up trash as well. "I'm helping you."

"Well I didn't ask f-"

"I know, Murdoc. In fact, you didn't say anyfing at all. But you never ask for help and you never will, so I'm helping you because you need it. Not because you asked." He gave the bassist a tired look and waited for him to retort but Murdoc just stared, drearily. 2D smiled a little then. "And because I want to." 

Murdoc took a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something, but it seemed 2D had taken the hint this time that he didn't want to talk, so he shut his mouth and they both went to work. 

\------

They cleaned well into the evening, picking up all the trash and sweeping the floor. Murdoc left to finish both of their laundry a few times and when they were done they folded all of it and put it away respectively. Once Murdoc's room was clean, they decided to clean 2D's as well which was somehow worse. They picked up all the trash and swept the floor, and they only shared a few words here and there about cleaning. It was pleasant, and Murdoc could say honestly, that he enjoyed it. When they had finished sweeping 2D's room, he looked over at the younger and saw him smiling at his room with his fists on his hips like some kind of chav. 

He chuckled and turned back to his room, 2D following. "Now what?" 2D asked, somewhat excited. Murdoc pulled out his phone to check the time. It was just past seven. 

Murdoc shook his head and put his phone back in his pocket. "Now, nothing. I'm done. I'm gonna have a smoke and pass out." He grabbed a cigarette from the box on his bed and lit it. 

2D frowned. "You've only been awake four hours. Shouldn't we organize in here? It's still a wreck." To justify his point, he held his hand out towards a stack of old records, and then a stack of books, and then all of the smaller relics he had on his dresser and beside table. "You've still got things on your bed as well." He said, and pointed behind him to the things they had picked up off the floor so they could sweep. 

Murdoc only shrugged and exhaled his cigarette smoke. "It's fine, it's just some of the things I've amassed from all my antique undertakings." He have a devilish grin and watched Stu's eyes flutter at the small bit of leftover smoke curling through his teeth. He then pursed his lips and sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh so Murdoc followed suit and sat with him. 

"I..." 2D started, and Murdoc knew immediately that this was what he had been fearing. The esteemed 'talk'. The way 2D's fingers twitched and his eyebrows went up and down in deep thought gave him away.

He quickly shook his head. "I don't want to hear it." 

2D stared at him but Murdoc just took another drag and nervously stared at that hole he had made in the wall two days before. "What?" He paused. "You don't want to know what I was finking?"

Murdoc looked at him then. "What?"

"Downstairs, in the basement. When you asked what I was finking and I wouldn't tell you." 2D watched Murdoc's face for a second and Murdoc felt his cheeks growing red so he scowled at him. 2D just plucked the cigarette from his fingers with an exasperated exhale. "It weren't anyfing bad. Or even a secret, really, I just didn't want to talk about it."

Murdoc watched him smoke and waited. There was a silence that stretched on for several long seconds as 2D inhaled and exhaled on his stolen cigarette. He kept his eyes trained on the hole in the wall and his temple twitched. A brief thought jumped into his head where he thought Stu was getting a headache but he quickly put it away because it was obvious he was just thinking. He waited as the other thought. If it wasn't bad, or a secret, then what was so serious about it?

2D smiled a little and finally said. "I was finking about how funny you are."

Murdoc swallowed and waited but 2D didn't say anything else, he just took another drag. So Murdoc laughed. "Is that it, mate? You think I'm funny?" 2D looked over at him and Murdoc couldn't tell what he was thinking. He laughed again, a little louder. "It's hardly news, we all knew I was a riot. Even Russel will tell you I make him laugh like no one else." He smiled proudly as 2D gave him a disbelieving look. 

"I just meant..." 2D was struggling again, he could tell. His eye was quivering as he thought hard about what he wanted to say. "I meant... when you make _me_ laugh." He looked at Murdoc as if he was supposed to understand what that meant. 

"Am I meant to know what that means?" He questioned.

"When you make me laugh it's not because you told a joke that was meant for... an- ah what's that sodding word? An audience! When you make me laugh it's not because you're saying somefing to make a crowd laugh, you're just being yourself." 2D was looking at him very delicately, eyelids half drawn and lips pulled up just slightly at the corners in a smile. Murdoc wasn't sure where this was going. What was he doing? Complimenting him? Making fun of him? Why was he telling him this? Why was he thinking about it in the first place? 

Murdoc wanted to shake his head and tell him to piss off with the sentimental shit he was using. It didn't matter if sometimes Murdoc wanted to kiss him, this was turning into something else and Murdoc wanted nothing to do with it. He didn't want to talk about emotions. Why did they always have to try to bring everything back to that? So Murdoc wanted to tell him to stop, but the way Stu was looking at him made something in Murdoc's stomach squirm. He realized he'd never been given a look like that. He'd been given bedroom eyes, sure, all the time. But this was different. 

He gulped and tried to think of something to say, but he still didn't quite understand what Stu had meant so he just asked again, "What?" It came out very quiet and Stu gave him a laugh that Murdoc imagined butterflies dancing to. His heart skipped a beat. 

2D shifted so one knee was bent up on the bed and he was giving Murdoc his complete attention. "Like, sometimes, when you talk you use your hands a lot, and it's very endearing. But when you get excited about somefing, mate, they fly everywhere, and you end up using your whole body." Stu laughed again and the squirming in Murdoc's stomach turned to fluttering. 

"I-"

"And when you get really focused on somefing, like when your tryin' to get a riff down on the bass, you make this face.. It's not an ugly face, Muds, I like it. You kind of, I mean, one side of your face kind of goes up, and you scrunch the other side... I've never seen anyone make that face." Again, he laughs, and the whole time he is explaining, he his bringing his hands up to squish one cheek down and pull the other up. He continues to give a very gentle laugh and Murdoc is not sure what to do. 

He figured 2D was going to try to sit him down and talk to him about the things Murdoc has done. Or at the very least, things Murdoc needed to change. And instead 2D was telling him all the ways he thought Murdoc was endearing. Somehow it seemed worse. Murdoc knew he was a bad person, and that he deserved to be exploited; that in a way, he had asked for it. So the fact that 2D was sitting here telling him about how he made him laugh just by being himself...

_You know who you are. You know what it means to be yourself. It's dangerous. You're cheating him into thinking there are good things about you._

_You are a liar, and he will never forgive you once he finally knows who you are._

Murdoc's throat constricted as 2D continued to tell him about how he made him laugh the other day by trying to open a pickle jar, but his face slowly started to fall and he got quieter once he noticed Murdoc was looking at him almost _afraid_. He stopped talking completely and let his hands slowly come down to rest on either side of him. 

"Muds?" He asked. Murdoc knew that 2D only used that name when he felt close to him. Or when he knew something was wrong. 

He doesn't want him to ask. He doesn't _deserve_ for him to ask. 

Murdoc watches 2D's face as he watches his. There was no way Murdoc would ever win. He could laugh with Russel in the living room and occasionally get Noodle to look at him like she used to, and maybe sometimes he would get to touch 2D very gently, but he would never win in the end. When all was said and done, Murdoc was a selfish, cruel, man who took and took and took until he died. And he didn't want to think about 2D believing that somewhere, deep down, he was a good person. Because he wasn't. 

"2D, you should go." 

It came out firmer than he expected to. He thought his voice would break, and that maybe he would even start crying, but instead he sounded level. He sounded in control.

Another lie. 

2D stared at him, top lip curling unattractively as he fought off whatever seemed to be eating him alive at Murdoc's comment. Internally, he laughed. He had done it again, the great Murdoc Faust Niccals had shot him down again with one bullet. Really, a work of art. Truly outstanding. 

He stood up and walked to the door. This was why he didn't want to talk. Because he couldn't. Because no matter how much he wanted to somewhere deep inside himself, he couldn't let himself speak. Whichever direction he chose, he would hurt somebody. Always. Over and over again. He couldn't keep from causing pain. 

_What kind of person are you?_

Murdoc opened the door and stood by, not facing 2D as he waited for him to stand. He did, eventually, and slowly walked over to the door to face Murdoc. He stood in front of him, willing him to look up. Murdoc swallowed, and let his eyes find 2D's which seemed hollower than usual. 

He took a shaky breath. "Why can't you..." He inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled again. "Why can't you be..." But he never finished. He turned and left, and as soon as he was gone Murdoc shut the door and turned to his bed, sweeping everything off and onto the floor where it had been. It all clattered as it hit the ground. Some things broke. He almost laughed. The voice had been right; everything had ended up right where it started. Murdoc thought about something 2D had spoken of. _Samsara. In Buddhism it's the cycle of life and death, it means everything always ends up where it was._

He fell into his bed. Pulled the covers over himself and pressed his face into the pillows. Tried to hold his breath as long as he could. Maybe if he stayed here, he could suffocate. Samsara, right? Maybe he would come back as a squirrel. Eventually he turned his head to the side to catch his breath, and wound up staring at the wall. 

Why did everything have to involve being open? Why was every relationship based on how obvious you were to a person? What was the point? You always end up hurt. Or hurting people. You can't escape it. And it doesn't make sense, what was the function of community if community was the reason you ended up alone? Why not just start out alone, stay alone, and die alone. _It would probably save a lot of heartbreak_. He thought. 

But there was no running from it; he was a part of a community. A shit community, but still a community. And he was a taker. He would always hurt people, even if it wasn't what he wanted anymore. And it seemed that if you choose something when you're young and hurt, there was no going back. You don't get to pick your cards again. And Murdoc would never win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is fuckshit-up if you have questions or comments my ask box is open.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets fun. There's feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some violence including blood.

Murdoc wasn't sure why until he hit the second landing on the stairs, but there was a tension in the air. He had made his way out of his room in just a t- shirt and knickers, rubbing his face tiredly, checking the time on his phone which read 11: 14 am. This was early for him, again, but he had woken up to take a piss and couldn't go back to sleep so he figured he would just head downstairs. Maybe he would actually hang out with the rest of the band today, although, whatever that was with 2D last night might be a deal breaker. His suspicions were confirmed once he was close enough to hear their voices in the kitchen.

They weren't quite arguing but it wasn't a friendly debate either. They sounded strained, like they were trying not to let things get out of hand. Murdoc made his way quietly downstairs, avoiding the fourth step from the bottom that he constantly said he would fix (the one he almost broke his foot on yesterday), and stood by the door to the kitchen.

"D, I really think-" Russel's voice.

Then 2D's, "No. No, I don't fink it's a good idea." Murdoc heard Russel sigh, and waited for him to say something else when Noodle's voice cut in.

"2D, we cannot keep doing this. I know that you don't want to confront this issue, but it is not fair to me or Russel." Murdoc tensed, realizing this was about an issue between him and 2D. 

_Last night?_

"You're right, I don't want to. Why should I have to say somefing first? Why can't Murdoc say somefing? I'm always instigatin' everything, and I don't want to anymore. He's a grown man!"

"So are you!" Russel argued. His heart skipped a beat. Last night should have stayed between them. It shouldn't have even happened, Murdoc should have snatched the bag from 2D, and told him to fuck off. He leaned a little further towards the door frame, fighting the urge to storm in and demand why they always insisted on talking about him when he wasn't around.

_It's because when they say something to you, you throw a fit like a twat._

2D started again. "How do I even know that he knows? Every time we perform, he acts like there's not a big picture of 'is face behind him, so maybe it's not an act."

Murdoc's heart stopped then. _Oh, shit._ It was about this. It wasn't just about last night, it was about the album. _Fantastic._

Murdoc closed his eyes. He remembered hearing about it in prison, how angry he was at first. They had released an album without him. He was the leader of their band, and they had tossed him aside, even gone as far as to recruit one of his buddies. He had panicked when he'd heard about it, wondering what he would do once he got out. If he got out. Then he'd listened to it and had been mad because it was good. How was he supposed to explain that they had done just fine without him? How was he supposed to prove that he was good enough to be in one of the most renowned bands in the world? That _he_ was good. That he was... enough? He'd heard the songs but none of them had registered. He punched the wall hard enough to almost break three of his knuckles the nurse had said.

Then he really listened to it. He wasn't sure what to make of it at first. Songs about being let down and still pushing on. Songs about hope. Angry songs... Love songs. He had pushed the thoughts away. _No. They aren't about me, 2D is stupid but he's not_ that _stupid. To write a whole album?_ And about his abuser no less. Then he had come back and he was remorseful. Or at least more so than he had ever been about anything in his life except maybe Noodle and the lighthouse, but he was sorry about everything. It was a package deal. They had welcomed him back, and he couldn't believe it after his revelation that he was probably the worst human being in his current time. He had practiced the songs with them, somehow managing to avoid looking at 2D until it was absolutely necessary. He kept telling himself that you could write love songs about anyone. Even if you weren't in love. He'd done it.

_Yeah, keep telling yourself that._

He had seen the picture of his face almost on accident. It was the first time he'd been on stage since prison and he had practiced all the songs with them, he knew them now like he knew every other _Gorillaz_ song. He was into it, playing his bass. He'd practiced but had forgotten the feeling of being on stage with it. Being proud of it and his talent, dancing around in front of screaming fans. He'd turned, tongue out, languid smile on his face, forty five seconds into Souk Eye and paused. It was him. Just... him. The picture didn't morph into other pictures of the rest of the band, it was just an angry picture of his face. He'd forgotten about his bass then. And the fans. Fingers stalling, music still there, still real, looking into his own eyes on the massive screen behind them. And he couldn't help it. He had turned to 2D and 2D was looking right at him, singing the words.

_If lovin' you's a felony now, then I'm a renegade..._

So 2D really did have feelings for him. _Holy shit._ He's heard him sing the song over and over again. Heard him sing about a secret lover who was never really there because 2D didn't _have_ a lover. And last night... Telling him he though Murdoc was funny... The look on his face when Murdoc kicked him out... he knew 2D was talking bullshit. They both knew.

"I-I dunno. When he does talk about it he gloats. You know, goin' on about how we missed him and that's why we had the picture up there. S-so... I fink... I mean..." His words fizzled. _Bullshit, 2D, I call bullshit._ His heart pounded.

"Come on, man. Even the fans have had their suspicions. Even _they_ know it's about someone special and they don't even know you. Not the way we do... Not the way _Murdoc_ does. I mean, seriously, you've been sleeping in his bed for Christ's sake." It was quiet for a few seconds. "How long are you going to let this go on? Forever?"

"Maybe." 2D said, bitterly. Then his tone turned sad, scared. "What if- what if he doesn't feel the same way. Because if he knows the- if he knows it's 'bout him then why doesn't he say anyfing? And last night..."

Noodle spoke up. "What happened last night?"

There was silence. And then, "I was going to tell 'im. But I- as soon as I started to get even _remotely_ emotional... He barely even let me start. He knew I was going to get personal and he kicked me out. You should have seen his face. He looked- he looked _horrified_..." 2D's voice snagged on the last word, like he was about to cry.

Murdoc swallowed. It was too early for him to be dealing with this. If he had a say, he wouldn't deal with this _ever._

"2D, how can you think he does not share your feelings? At least a little?" Noodle asked.

"What d'you mean?" 2D asked quietly and Murdoc's heart thumped in his chest. He had already put her down about this. Was there something she knew that he didn't? Was there something he hadn't hid well enough? Not that he had anything to hide really.

_Shut the fuck up. You've got more secrets shoved up your arse then the U.S.S fucking Indianapolis._

There was a pause, and he imagined Noodle and Russel sharing a look. "Well, for starters, like Russel said, he has been letting you sleep in his bed with him... But, 2D, who do you think all of those songs were for?" She said slowly.

"What songs?" 2D said, annoyed. Murdoc's heart pounded harder. _No. They were just stupid songs that stupid people want to hear, they didn't mean anything._

"Plastic Beach, D."

Murdoc shoved a fist in his mouth, took a deep breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. _Plastic Beach_. It wasn't just a sensitive subject for Murdoc, but for 2D as well. In most ways even more so.

"Those love songs..." Noodle continued. "You think those just came out of nowhere? You think they were for nobody?"

"No." 2D spat. "No, he hated me! He made that perfectly clear! He kidnapped me, locked me in my room wif that _bloody whale_! He drugged me and forced me to sing! He beat me!" As he went on his voice became more shrill, rising in panic and anger. Murdoc bit down on his knuckles. "That's not love! That's-"

"2D you know him, you know him better than anyone and you know how he deals with his feelings." Russel conveyed.

"He doesn't! He doesn't deal wif them! He drinks 'imself into oblivion and then pretends it never happened!" 2D shouted. Murdoc wanted to shrink until he was nothing. He wanted to curl into himself until he was small and then he could ignore all of this. Pretend it wasn't happening. He tried to keep from running away.

"Exactly. He- well, we all know that after Noodle..." They were quiet again and Murdoc _really_ wanted to die. They were talking about him. They were talking about him and about his breakdown like they didn't think he was upstairs, asleep. They were talking about his feelings for Noodle, and about how it had torn him apart after her supposed death at his hands. He pulled at his hair. "You know that he panicked and secluded himself on the island. He even went as far as to make an exact replica of her to _follow him around_. He hardly has a filter anyways, do you really find it so unbelievable that he would write you songs in the most, I don't know, _frightening_ time in his life?"

Murdoc could list countless experiences more frightening than that just in his first ten years of life but, Russel wasn't far off. He'd been terrified. Of what he'd done. Of what would happen to him with the knowledge that he had killed the only person that even came remotely close to real family. Finally someone who he could openly care about and he'd killed her. _Killed her._

_Killer. Killer. Murderer._

2D spoke again, calmer. "I can't confront him."

"2D-"

"No! It's not that simple!" He sounded desperate and Murdoc pictured him on the verge of tears. "You can't imagine what it's like to 'ave someone abuse you for years, and then... realize..." Murdoc noted that in all of this, 2D had never once said he loved him. Murdoc was a little grateful for that. That, despite everything that he had learned just by listening to the album, that 2D didn't love him. Or at least, if he did, he couldn't admit it unless he was singing it.

_You don't deserve love._

Murdoc bent over a little, clutching his stomach, trying to steady his breathing quietly. He didn't want them knowing he was there, but they had brought up _El Mañana, Plastic Beach,_ prison and _The Now Now_ and it was too much. Not to mention this proof that 2D had feelings for him. He breathed, eyes closed, arms tightening around his middle until 2D's voice came through the way it always did when he started to panic.

"It's not fair. I- I want... I just want him to feel the same way I feel but it's not that simple. It'll never be that simple... The things he's done..."

"D, you have to do _something_. Waiting for Murdoc to do something isn't a good plan. As much as I care about the guy, he's not reliable. If you want change, you'll have to start it." Murdoc was a smidge calmer now, and he rolled his eyes as Russel preached to him. _Change. I'll show you change, you fucking_ \- "And I know that you're worried that maybe he doesn't reciprocate, but... I've seen the way he looks at you sometimes."

Murdoc stopped moving altogether now. _No_. He could admit that despite the way he had treated him in the past, and despite his own denial for the way he felt for 2D, there were times when he just let himself really look at him. But it hadn't really meant anything, and he hadn't realized anyone else had noticed. And if Russel had noticed then chances are Noodle had seen too.

"It is true. I know that since he has been back, he admits many regrets about past mistakes but the truth is when he looks at you sometimes, 2D, he looks like he regrets maybe not saying some things." Noodle voiced gently. "To you."

He was mad now.

They didn't know. They had no fucking clue what he thought. And suddenly, because 2D has feelings, all of the times Murdoc maybe looked at 2D are suddenly exploited and turned into some sappy, silent, _longing_? All the love songs he wrote are suddenly for him? Maybe they weren't wrong but who were they to tell him that they were about him? They had no idea. No idea.

 _Alone._ The voice whispered. _You're alone. No one knows what you think and you're still outed like the despicable person you are._

He was mad. _Livid._ What right did they have to talk about him like this behind his back? To make him sound like some scared little prick who couldn't keep his feelings in check? How many years had he hid anything of real value from them? How long had he kept them from really knowing? They didn't know anything. They all thought they were so smart. Suddenly his feet were moving and he was walking into the kitchen, hands clenched at his sides, and they all looked up as he came in.

He should've thought this through. He should have stood outside the door and caught his breath and thought about how he wanted to confront them but he was so angry with them. But he came in, remembering he was still only in his underwear and a t-shirt, and immediately relaxed his hands, let his face fall into the unassuming, blasé mask he wore so well.

Murdoc watched them as he made his way to the coffee pot. 2D was standing by the counter next to Noodle, and Russel was sitting on the edge of his chair, turned towards both of them and they all watched him uneasily.

"You're up, uh, pretty early for yourself again Muds," Russel started. "What's up, man?" Murdoc had his back to them and rolled his eyes, but he noticed how normal he sounded. Like they hadn't just been outing him a few seconds earlier. Murdoc wondered how often they lied to him if Russel always sounded like this.

"Yeah well, I can't get much sleep with you all yelling at each other down here, y'know?" He turned towards them, mug full of coffee and sipped, reveling in the looks on their faces. He wanted to take this a little further. "Did you all finally get tired of playin' house? Decided to have a go at each other, finally, eh?"

They all relaxed a little, assuming he didn't know what they were talking about. His anger flared and he gripped the counter top behind him.

"No, actually we were talkin' about the new album." Russel said easily, leaning back in his chair. They all followed his lead, 2D moving to sit down in the chair next to him, and Noodle picked up her own coffee forgotten behind her. "A critic had something nasty to say about it and we were arguing about it."

Murdoc wouldn't be surprised if a critic _had_ said something considering they just finished the tour. It was a good lie, and Murdoc found himself really questioning how well he actually knew Russel, at least personally. He figured they knew as much about each other as the other chose to let on, really only telling a little bit so as to keep the other person from being suspicious. Though he had to admit, over the years he hadn't cared much for knowing about Russel because he had made it veritably clear how little he cared for Murdoc, and the only way Murdoc knew how to make it clear when he didn't like someone was to basically say "go die" But still, after last night, it hurt.

"Right." Murdoc mumbled and sat down at the table next to 2D who wouldn't look at him. They all sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at each other to see what they should say next. "Well, go ahead," Murdoc said, gesturing with his hand. "Don't let me get in the way of your talking. Satan knows you do it just fine when I'm not here." Once again, the looks went around the kitchen as they tried to figure out if he meant this morning or just in general.

Russel spoke up again, "Okay well. I don't think that critic had any right to say what he said considering he doesn't know us at-" Murdoc's anger was barely controlled.

"Actually, you know what, I'd like to speak." He cut in angrily. He didn't have the patience to sit around and listen to them talk about anything but what they were talking about before he came in. Especially if he had to listen to them keep up this guise.

Cue the looks they gave as Murdoc shifted forward in his seat towards 2D. "2D, I think there's something you should know." He said, and he couldn't help the playfully angry tone he had, drawing out the sounds in the words, almost like he was drunk. He wanted to make him feel bad. He wanted to make all of them feel bad. 2D's eyes danced between Murdoc and Russel.

Murdoc wasn't sure exactly how he knew where 2D was always looking, but he figured it had to do with all the studying he did of the man when he was a vegetable. And all the studying after apparently. It had to do with the way his eyelids shifted. His body language. He was always turned slightly to the left or right of whatever he was looking at because direct eye contact made him nervous. And Murdoc had realized very quickly into their friendship that 2D had used his newfound black eyes as a sort of cover; something to hide behind. And maybe Murdoc had taken it as a challenge because he found himself studying him closer until he always knew where 2D was looking. It was something he had taken pride in over the years when he had hurt the younger man, though now he just felt bad. But occasionally, he was glad he still knew what he knew.

"I am a man of mmmmany words," He said with a throaty laugh, "Naturally. But there seems to be some things I've left unsaid between us." His fingers danced over the handle of his mug and instead of keeping his eyes on Murdoc, 2D kept his gaze transfixed on those fingers. "I believe there are some things I wish I had said." His tone was growing angrier, and he found his facade slipping. "Some might even say regret." He spit.

"Murdoc," Noodle said quickly. It was a warning, but Murdoc ignored her. Russel was tense beside 2D, and Murdoc laughed again, throwing his head back.

"2D... 2D... You make me laugh, Stu." He gave a fake show of affection, lowering his eyelids and bringing his hand towards 2D who pulled back, frightened. His breathing was shallow and he was looking straight at Murdoc now, hands gripping either side of his chair.

"Murdoc please. Please don't... Don't." His voice was wobbly, and Murdoc finally let his anger go.

"Don't what?" He shouted. "Isn't this what you wanted? You wanted some kind of confession? You wanted to talk about me behind my back, about how I never say anything and now I'm doing it! I'm here, and I'm telling you what you wanna hear, and you bloody tell me _don't?_ What the fuck do you want then?" He was leaning forward even further, towards 2D, shouting at the top of his lungs and 2D was staring at him, tears in his eyes.

"I want you to be honest!" He shouted back. He stood then, and ran his fingers through his hair. "This i'nt what I wanted! I wanted to come to you and tell you gently! Ask you honestly! But instead-"

" _Gently? Honestly?_ " He spat, glaring at him venomously. "You're such a fucking _child_ , D."

"Right, _I'm_ the child! Avoiding every conversation about feelings I can, and ducking any kind of intimacy or honesty! I know you, and all you ever do is lie, Murdoc!" 2D was sticking his finger out at him and Murdoc had had it. He swiped at his mug and it hit the cabinets, shattering, flinging coffee and glass everywhere.

"Murdoc!" Noodle shouted, jumping away, and Russel stood up. 2D cowered away from the cup and watched Murdoc stand so fast his chair fell back.

This time Murdoc pointed at 2D, other hand clenched at his side. "You don't know _shit!_ You don't know anything, so _piss off_ with all of this 'I know you, Murdoc' rubbish! You don't know anything!"

"I know _you_ , Murdoc! You can try to tell me I don't but I do! And everyfing I _don't_ know about you, 's because you won't tell me! You lie about everyfing! Everyfing!" He was swinging his arms around wildly, and he looked nervous but he was looking at Murdoc, body turned to him as he shouted and that was a testament to his newfound assurance. Murdoc took a step forward and was surprised when he didn't move.

"You don't know me." Murdoc said dangerously. "So what bloody right do you think you have tellin' me that you have _feelings_ for me?" They room was quiet then, save for everyone's hurried breathing and 2D stared at him.

"I don't know." He admitted, indignantly. "You're a bloody prick, and you're shit with feelings, and you're shit with me. And you don't care about anyone but yourself, and you've been better since you've been back but we still haven't 'eard an apology out of you! Not a real one! But for some reason I-"

"You can't have feelings for someone you don't know." Murdoc said.

"You fink I chose this?" 2D shouted. "You fink I chose to care about someone who abused me for as long as I've known 'im?" Despite himself Murdoc's heart sank.

"Right," He says, defeated. "So you just stuck around because you involuntarily cared for me, is that it, mate?" He asked, and 2D's shoulders fell, just barely, realizing he'd struck a nerve. "Well, don't worry about it, I don't need you to stick around. I don't _need_ you. I don't need any of you!" He shouted throwing his hands up and looking at each of them in turn. Noodle and Russel both looked unsure of what to do. "And I don't need your fucking pity, so now that the truth is out you can all leave. Go back on tour, write another bloody love-sick album. Don't forget Ace!"

He turned to leave when 2D grabbed his arm. "No, we're not done!" Murdoc reacted, jerking his arm up in panic and anger and fear. His elbow caught 2D's chin and he reeled back. Murdoc opened his mouth to shout something, maybe even an apology, when 2D lunged at him. He didn't have any time to react as he slammed into his middle and they hit the ground with a thud, limbs everywhere, and the wind was knocked out of him. He tried to catch his breath as 2D sat up. "Why do you always-" He started.

"Get the fuck off me!" Murdoc screamed and he threw his fist up, catching 2D in the nose. It hit him with a crack and blood spattered everywhere. 2D grabbed his nose as Noodle and Russel shouted somewhere over his shoulder and Murdoc caught a glimpse of 2D's glare before he punched him back. Murdoc's eye went white with pain. He threw his other hand up and felt his fist connect with something as 2D hit him again in the mouth, and then the body on top of him was pulled away and he pushed himself up on his elbow, grabbing his face as his mouth filled with blood. Noodle was pulling him away from Murdoc, shouting in Japanese, and Murdoc felt Russel behind him, hauling him up by his arms. Once he was mostly standing he snatched his arms from Russel's grip but he grabbed him again to keep him from advancing on 2D who was also being held back by Noodle.

He swallowed the blood in his mouth and smirked when he saw 2D's lip had busted, blood from his nose as well soaking his shirt. His eye still stung with pain, and he found it hard to focus through the stars as it watered uncontrollably, but he still managed to shout through the blood in his teeth, "Fuck you!" He jerked his arms wildly to get Russel to let go, but he wouldn't and Murdoc found himself starting to panic. "Let go, you bloody hippo! Let go!" He continued to thrash and maybe Russel noticed exactly how panicked he was beginning to get because he released him.

Murdoc turned to 2D again, noticing that Noodle had let him go as well and was giving Murdoc a warning look. With what little eyesight he had left he started to see red. Of course she was warning him, everything was his goddamn fault, wasn't it? Always!

_Isn't it, though?_

"I should've left you to rot when I ran you over!" He yelled. "Next time I make a deal with the Devil, I'll ask him to give me a heads up in case I'm forced to work with another idiot!"

"Next time? You leavin' the band, Muds? You gonna go start a new one?" The anger was still there, entwined with the sarcasm he was spitting at Murdoc as the blood ran down his chin.

"I should've picked someone else! I should've picked another sodding keyboard shop to drive through!"

"You wish you had another band?" 2D screamed at him, and Noodle gripped his arm. "You wish you had left when you had the chance?"

"Yes! Then you could still be working a mediocre job at forty in your uncle's fucking shop," he whirled to face Russel and pointed at him. "And you could still be selling records in that shitty shop in Soho, _still_ possessed by those dead friends of yours!"

Russel glared at him but there was no missing the hurt there. He turned back to face 2D. "I should've chosen another band." He was, for the second time, prepared to turn and leave when Noodle spoke up.

"What about me, Murdoc?" She asked and he stared at her, still breathing hard. He swallowed another mouthful of blood.

"What?"

"What about me? You have said how you wished you had left them behind, what about me?" She was challenging him, and he knew it. She had crossed her arms and was staring him down.

"I'm not-"

"I am part of this band too!" She shouted, stepping forward, and Murdoc found himself involuntarily stepping back. "So if you truly wish you had another one, then tell me that you wish you had left me too!"

Murdoc didn't want to. He had less of a problem hurting the other two, he could admit, but after _El Mañana_... Still. He was mad, and he was tired of always being looked at like the bad guy and he just wanted to sleep. He was tired.

"Fine! I wish I had left you too, then! Is that what you want to hear?" He threw his hands up, huffing, and watched her turn to the side to try and hide the hurt on her face. Being the warrior that she was, Murdoc was never surprised when she surprised him. It was something he had grown used to over the years. It was one of the reasons he loved her. But she had surprised him again by actually showing anything. She tended to take after Murdoc when it came to feelings, though her methods were less self destructive, and mostly kept to herself unless she knew she couldn't handle it (which was rare in and of itself). He wondered why she chose now to show that his words had hurt her.

2D piped up again, obviously still fuming but cooling off after Murdoc had shouted at Noodle. "If you didn't want us so bad, then why did you ask for a band anyways?"

"What?" Murdoc said again. _I just want this to be over. I want to go to my room and never come out again. Fuck!_

" _Why_ did you ask for a band if you were never going to get along wif them?" 2D still had blood running freely down his face, and every few seconds he licked his lips so his teeth were covered in it the way Murdoc's were.

"I didn't know I was gonna get stuck with you lot." He said. The energy was draining from him fast, as it was the rest of the band. The tension was still there but slowly fizzling out, the fight leaving as quickly as it had come.

"You don't get along wif anybody, Murdoc, you never have. So what was the point in asking for a band if you were just going to hate them anyways?"

"I- I don't _hate_ \- Fuck!" He turned around, pulling at his hair. The metallic taste in his mouth was getting old, becoming too much. He didn't hate them, he was just mad.

_What are you mad at then, you wanker?_

"What was the point of the band, Murdoc?" 2D said.

Murdoc glanced at Russel, who looked ready to collapse even though he hadn't just gotten into a fist fight. Then he glanced at Noodle and noticed her mask was back up, face stern as it usually was, and Murdoc was once again reminded of himself. His throat clenched painfully, and he felt the sting behind his eyes telling him he was on the verge of tears. He swallowed the blood in his mouth.

"I- There wasn't one. It was something I wanted on a whim, y'know. I thought it would be a fun distraction-"

"Distraction from what?" 2D vociferated. "You think we're a distraction, Muds? Are we a good one? Are you nice and distracted now?"

"Piss off!" Murdoc shouted. "It wasn't about you! I didn't make the band around you lot!"

"Then why did you make it?"

"Because it was _suggested_ to me!"

They stared at him, confused.

"By who?" Russel asked.

Murdoc turned away. "I'm done." He had shared enough. He was too tired to continue and he needed a drink. He needed ten. Fuck what Noodle wanted, he was going to get a fucking drink. He was starting to get the shakes again anyways.

"Murdoc-" 2D started.

"No! Fuck you! I'm done!" With that he turned and made his way upstairs. No one stopped him this time, maybe because they were afraid of another brawl. He slammed the door behind him and quickly gathered up his clothes, pulling on pants and shoes and his jacket. He grabbed his cigarettes and lighter and stormed back downstairs.

Before he left, he caught a glimpse of them at the table. Russel had his head in his hands watching Noodle wipe the blood from 2D's face, both looking tired, and 2D had his hand on her knee comfortingly. Murdoc watched for a second as they sat together, and found himself jealous again. Jealous of the way they all took care of each other. How they really seemed like family. Who was he if he wasn't part of this family?

_They will always choose each other over you._

Murdoc swallowed the lump in his throat as Stu looked up at him.

_And it's your fault._

They shared a look for a second, and Murdoc watched as his tired face moved to sad. He looked remorseful. He looked like he wished he could take all of it back; like if he could, he would start over. He pressed his lips together very tightly and furrowed his eyebrows, telling Murdoc that he wished things were different.

 _I'm sorry_. Murdoc wanted to say. But the words wouldn't come. They never had and they never would.

And Murdoc would never win.

He turned and opened the door before the tears he held in his eyes dropped.

He left, shutting the door behind him, and they fell.


	7. My Apologies

Alright fellas, i just wanted to let you know i haven't forgotten about the story. i've seen all your comments and appreciate every one. i've just been really busy dealing with things over the last 8 months; i went back to school and i work full time. my mental health also has the quality of, like, a wet rag so. i still love these characters and i still want to write about them, but you'll have to give me a little more time, i'm just so fucking TIRED all the time you know?? anyways. soon, guys. but not yet. also please tell me everything you love and hate about my story so i may improve!! and let me know if there's anything you personally would like me to add (scenes or lines or maybe even characters!) and i can see if i can incorporate it! follow my tumblr fuckshit-up and send me asks or tell me what you think there, i'm so excited to get to know you and interact with you! i love you each individually and with my entire heart! thanks for understanding


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